Year 2: Gwyn Swann and the Chamber of Secrets
by Lady Dawson
Summary: Complete. It's the second year for the quartet and the Heir of Slytherin is attacking Muggle-borns. Gwyn finds faces connected with her past as her Seer powers grow ever so stronger . . .
1. Back at Home

**Gwyn Swann and the Chamber of Secrets**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter One: Back at Home

"Tabby!"

Gwyn Swann hurried down the streets of her home town as she chased after her small, tabby cat, who was darting across the sidewalk away from his mistress, struggling to keep up with him. Her blonde hair was plastered to her forehead as she panted, running after her cat with blazing blue eyes.

She had been sitting on bench on the porch at the house she lived at with her guardian Madeline Harris with Tabby lying at her feet while she did her summer homework when Tabby suddenly gave a small meow and took off without warning. Gwyn, bewildered and annoyed, had given chase and half an hour later, she was even more annoyed than she'd been before.

Unaware of where it was that she was heading towards, Gwyn saw a young boy about her own age up ahead setting down some boxes in front of the fence. "Hey!" she shouted to him and he looked up, startled. "My cat! Grab my cat!"

He saw the fast-moving Tabby and swooped down to grab him before he could go any further and Gwyn let out a sigh of relief as she hurried up to the boy holding Tabby. "Thank you," she said gratefully as she took Tabby, who clawed his mistress's shirt as she stroked him, shaking her head in bewilderment. "What on earth got into you?" she demanded to Tabby before looking up at the boy. "Thank you very much. I've been chasing him forever."

"No problem, it was a relief to take a break from these boxes," the boy told her with a laugh and she grinned, glancing towards the car that was packed full of boxes. "My mum packs like crazy. It wouldn't have hurt her to get rid of a little bit."

"Are you and your mum moving into town?" she asked, glancing up at the house and with a start, suddenly realised just where she was at. Glancing back at the boy, she cast a quick glance around to see if her father was anywhere in sight. There was no doubt in her mind that he would have something to say about it if he saw her here.

"Yeah, my mum decided that she wanted to live with her new boyfriend," he replied darkly. He looked depressed for a minute. "It wouldn't kill her to try and work things out with my dad, but she decided that she liked William better."

Gwyn nodded slowly, glancing back up at the house. "That would be William Swann, then?" she asked and he nodded bitterly.

"I wish I could've gone to live with Dad, but he's off in France right now and then travelling around to other parts of the world and he and Mum insisted that I stay in one place so I could go to school. It's the one thing that they've agreed on since the divorce." He sighed and shook his head. "I'm Evan. Evan Taylor."

With a smile at him, Gwyn accepted his offered hand. "I'm Gwyn," she answered, deciding for the moment not to give him her surname. It was just going to cause more problems than she wanted to deal with.

"Just Gwyn? No last name that goes with that?" Evan inquired with a smile towards her.

Gwyn chuckled. "Sorry, you've got to earn that right," she told him. "Besides, you wouldn't believe me, anyway." She hoisted Tabby into her arms more tightly and turned away. "Well, I should go. Madeline's going to be home soon and I've got stuff to do. But it was a pleasure to meet you, Evan." For being her future stepbrother, he didn't seem so bad.

"Madeline? Is that your sister?"

"That's my guardian," Gwyn answered with a shrug. Evan nodded as he looked down at the boxes.

"Yeah, I should go get these inside, anyway," he told her. "But I'll see you soon, right? You'll be going to school here. That's supposed to start in about a month, so I'll see you there?"

Gwyn shook her head. "No, you won't," she told him. "I don't go to school here; I'm just here for the holidays. I . . . I go to this private school up in Scotland, it's really far away, so unless I see you before I leave, I'm not going to be here until next summer."

"Oh." Evan looked disappointed just as a few girls walked up behind them and Gwyn turned around to find some of her old classmates before she'd discovered about her new life behind her.

"Well, look who it is, girls," Isabella Cleveland commented, giving Gwyn a sweet, innocent smile. "Guinevere Swann, as bright and cheerful as always. So, tell us, Gwyn, is it true? Did you really get rejected from all the schools around here, so you had to get shipped off to a boarding school?"

Evan stared at her, then towards Gwyn. "Swann?" he echoed in bewilderment.

"Oh, yeah, she's William's daughter, but he disowned her about a year ago," Isabella said indifferently, giving Gwyn a withering look. "What did you do to make your dad so mad at you, anyway? Could it be that he couldn't stand that you look so much like your dead mum that he wanted you out of the way? It must burn you up inside that he's forgotten all about her and moved on to someone else."

"You know what? I have to get home, I actually have better things to do than to sit around here and tolerant your company," Gwyn shot back. She turned on her heel and walked away from them.

"She's such a freak," one of Isabella's friends commented, causing the rest of them to laugh.

Gwyn sighed as she looked down at Tabby in annoyance. "You sure know how to cause trouble, don't you?" she said dryly as she stroked her cat behind the ears, glancing back once towards where Evan was standing, looking at her with some shock in his eyes as she looked up at the house, a house that she had once called her home.

For ten long years, Gwyn had lived with her absentee father, the owner of a pub downtown, with only the housekeeper, Madeline Harris, to confide in. Her mother Aurora Toren-Swann had died when she was just two years old, with circumstances that were unaware to Gwyn at the time. But over a year ago, she received the mysterious invitation to go to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and the true story surrounding her mother's death was revealed.

A dark wizard named Voldemort had risen to power before Gwyn was born and had thrust the wizarding world into darkness, killing wizards who opposed him and those who refused to join him. Her mother had fought alongside those who opposed him until a miraculous thing occurred.

Voldemort was taken down, by a year-old baby named Harry Potter. Stripped of his powers, Voldemort fled and the wizarding world was able to breathe again, free to go out into the streets without fear of their lives. Only his followers refused to give up. One of them had attacked a crowd and when Gwyn's mother had tried to save them, he'd killed her.

Filled with anguish and grief over the loss of his wife, William Swann had sworn that his daughter would never know that world. But when Gwyn discovered the truth of her heritage, she had disobeyed her father and left the world she'd known behind—only to discover the enchanting and magical world that her mother had left to her.

For the first time in her life, Gwyn had felt like she belonged—but more than that, she had friends. Three of the best, most wonderful friends that anyone could ask for. Ron Weasley, the only one of the quartet that had been raised in the wizarding world. Hermione Granger, a bright and clever witch who was the top of their year. And then there was Harry Potter, the same boy that had stopped Voldemort years ago and had stopped him from rising again two months ago.

Gwyn had been there, in the chamber just outside where he'd fought Voldemort and his follower Quirrell, and had blasted through to get to her friend. And then they had parted for the holidays, each going to their own homes, but Gwyn was forever barred from her childhood home for disobeying her father and now lived with her former housekeeper and guardian Madeline.

She hadn't seen her father since she had come back for summer holidays and she was sure that he was trying determinedly to hide from her, not wanting to see or talk to her.

During Christmas holidays last year, he had written to her to tell her that he had met a woman and now it appeared that she was going to be living with him, along with her son. But Gwyn wasn't worried about her father's new family at the moment. No, she was more worried about Harry.

Since they'd said goodbye at the train station at the end of term, she hadn't heard a word from him, though she had written to him twice a week and she knew that Ron and Hermione hadn't heard from him either. She'd wrote to them and asked and they both confirmed her suspicions that he wasn't writing back to any of them.

Something was wrong, she knew as she opened the gate to her house and climbed up the steps, opening the door to the house. "You be good," she ordered Tabby as she collected her books from the porch, shoving them into her back as she headed inside.

It wasn't like Harry to not write to them. Besides, from what she knew about his aunt and uncle, they were just as bad as her father, if not worse. He wouldn't just not write; he needed them more than ever. Living with the Dursleys sounded frightful.

With a small sigh, Gwyn carried her books up to her bedroom and ushered Tabby into the room, who climbed up onto the bed and curled up onto the pillow. "What possessed you to take off like that?" she grumbled as she set her bag onto her desk. She had finished most of her schoolwork, along with doing some extra studying in her spare time, which was a whole lot of the time, coincidentally. In a small town where everyone thought she was abnormal, she didn't have any friends to hang out with. Isabella had been her only friend before she'd gone to Hogwarts and now they were worse than enemies.

And now with Ron and Hermione back at their own houses and Harry not answering her letters, Gwyn was longing for to be back at school, in the castle with surprises at every corner and the interesting classes—except maybe History of Magic, the only class taught by a ghost. Gwyn couldn't help it; she missed everything about the castle.

"Got your homework all done?" Madeline inquired as she poked her head into the room. Gwyn nodded, still deep in thought on her worries about Harry's silence. "That's good. How was your day?" she asked as she walked over to sit down on the bed next to Gwyn.

"It wasn't too bad, did homework mostly, then Tabby took off and I had to track him down," Gwyn said dryly, then glanced up at him. "You know that my dad's moving in with that girlfriend of his and her son?"

Madeline sighed. "Yes, I know." She looked towards her ward anxiously and placed a gentle hand on her blonde hair. "Are you all right? You seem a bit . . . preoccupied."

"With Dad? Of course I'm not okay with it, but he's made his decision and I've made mine. And while I would like to have my dad back in my life, I don't regret the choices that I made."

"Then what is about?"

"It's Harry," Gwyn admitted, looking up at her guardian anxiously. "I'm really worried about him."

"He still hasn't written you back?" Madeline asked, frowning slightly. Gwyn shook her head. "And Ron and Hermione have told you that he hasn't written to them either?"

"Not a word."

Madeline shook her head, frowning slightly. "Well, it sounds to me that somebody might be blocking his mail and preventing him from receiving any letters. And I daresay that those relatives of his aren't going to be letting him send any letters with his owl."

"Hedwig," Gwyn said affectionately, thinking of Harry's snowy white owl that was his faithful companion. "Listen, do you think that it would be okay if I rode out to Surrey tomorrow and see if everything was okay?" She hoped that Madeline would say yes, because she was going crazy with worry.

"I don't see any problem to that," Madeline said with a smile. "Straight there, though, all right? Don't take any detours. And keep an eye on those relatives of his. I've never met them, but Aurora did and she used the most . . . colourful language when describing them."

Gwyn grinned. Apart from being her former housekeeper, Madeline was also an old friend of her mother's and told her stories about Aurora Toren to her heart's content.

"Well, I'm going to start dinner," Madeline said with a sigh as she headed out of the room. "Don't worry about Harry. I'm sure that he's fine."

"He's got a knack for finding trouble, Madeline," Gwyn said with a sigh, thinking of the previous year.

"Yes, I would imagine so," Madeline mused. "Like father, like son. But if he's anything like James, then I would say that he's got a way of getting himself out of it. Especially since he has three very loyal, very stubborn friends."


	2. Breaking and Entering

**Gwyn Swann and the Chamber of Secrets**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Two: Breaking and Entering

It was early the next morning when Gwyn got onto her bike and started riding out of town, heading towards Surrey. Even driving, it was a two-hour ride, so she planned to get there early enough so that she could find out what was going on and get back before Madeline got home from work. Sure, she'd given her permission to go, but being gone this long was bound to get her into trouble.

After feeding Tabby and locking the house securely, Gwyn pulled her bicycle out of the garage and climbed out, riding on the sidewalk, not noticing that there was someone watching her as she passed by the Swann Manor.

Gwyn came to a stop by the stop sign, glancing both ways when her seer powers starting kicking up. The daughter of a seer, Gwyn herself possessed the Sight, though her own gifts showed up earlier than it did with most seers. Usually, they waited until the seer was sixteen before revealing themselves. And Gwyn was only eleven when she started developing them.

With a frown, Gwyn glanced behind her and saw that Evan Taylor was right behind her, looking at her with a frown on his face. "What are you following me for?" she asked, giving him a curious look.

"I don't know, saw you leaving and thought maybe we should talk," Evan said with a shrug as he fell into step next to her.

"You know, we really don't," Gwyn said, half-annoyed. "I'm going to visit a friend."

"What, you can't wait ten minutes just to wait and talk to me?" Evan inquired and she gave him a look before climbing off of her bike and looking at him pointedly. "Thank you. Now, you mind telling me who exactly you are and . . ." He didn't finish the sentence, but Gwyn knew exactly what he was trying to ask her.

"You know who I am," Gwyn responded as she kicked the break into place, letting the bike sit on its side. She leaned against it as she looked towards Evan evenly. "Gwyn Swann, William Swann's daughter that he disowned last year."

"Yeah, but why?"

Gwyn sighed before looking towards Evan, folding her arms across her chest, trying to decide. "Fine," she said at long last. "You really want to know?" Evan nodded, looking a little bit frustrated with her by now. "My father met my mother Aurora Toren in London. They were both eighteen, just out of school and both about to start their lives. And he fell madly in love with her, or so people say. A year later, they married and had a daughter. Me," she said softly, looking away. "And they were never happier, according to some folk. It was . . . the happiest times of their lives. Things were bright and beautiful and wonderful. I don't remember any of it, because it all changed before I turned two years old."

"What changed?" Evan asked slowly and she blinked, half-forgetting that he was there, before continuing.

"My mother was killed when a homicidal lunatic attacked a group of innocent people in the street. She'd been trying to save them," Gwyn said softly. That was as close to the truth as he was going to get. "And when she died, part of my father died along with her. He lost all meaning of his life and most of the time he didn't even remember that he had a daughter. I was left alone most of the time, with only our housekeeper Madeline Harris to take care of me. She was an old friend of my mum's, you see."

"Madeline Harris? The same woman who's now your guardian?" Evan looked astounded at the story. She nodded. "But what happened between you and your dad? Why'd he disown you?"

"Let's just say that I chose my mother's path," Gwyn said with a shrug. "And my father had pretty much cut that off when she died. He didn't want me to have any part of that world."

"What world?"

"Sorry," Gwyn said with a shrug. "You don't get to know that right now." It was forbidden to tell Muggles about the wizarding world, as part of the laws of the Ministry of Magic. The only ones who knew were families of witches and wizards. Either they'd married into a wizarding family or they had a child who was a witch or wizard. Hermione was the latter; both her parents were Muggles. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I really have to go."

"Why didn't he tell my mum that he has a daughter?" Evan asked as she climbed back onto her bike. "I mean, surely he wouldn't cast his only child off for the rest of his life. Some part of him must want to be part of your life, right?"

Gwyn paused at the question and looked at him. "That's what I keep saying," she said quietly as she pushed off and pedalled away, not looking back at Evan.

She didn't look back as she vanished from her town and the streets became to get brighter and brighter as morning was slowly leaving them behind.

It was almost ten o'clock when she reached Privet Drive in Surrey. Gwyn pulled to a stop at the corner when she saw a car pull out of the driveway at number four and started driving away. She recognised the driver from meeting him at the train station when term ended. Gwyn hoped that Harry's uncle wouldn't recognise her, but she purposefully dropped her bag that was in her basket on purpose and swooped down to pick it up, effectively making him miss her. By the time she had gotten up, he had turned the corner.

Gwyn checked to make sure that the coast was clear, heading across the street while keeping an eye out for Mrs. Dursley. She wasn't sure what was going on, but she had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach that her best friend's situation wasn't good.

Leaning her bike against the neighbour's fence, Gwyn peered into the backyard, seeing nobody in sight as she looked around. Casting a quick glance, she walked up the sidewalk to the front door and quietly eased it open, praying that it wasn't going to creak. Thankfully, the door remained silent as she slipped inside the door.

_Madeline probably didn't consider me breaking and entering when she gave me permission to come here,_ Gwyn thought wryly as she closed the door behind her, casting a quick look around. Through the glass door that presumably led to the kitchen, Gwyn saw the silhouette of a woman that she was sure was Harry's aunt.

Praying that his cousin was somewhere out of the house, Gwyn quietly slipped up the stairs, freezing when the third stair creaked.

"Diddykins?" Mrs. Dursley called from the kitchen, hearing it. "Is that you, darling?"

Gwyn stood perfectly still, not daring to move and praying against all odds that she wouldn't come into the foyer as Mrs. Dursley called for her son again. Thankfully, however, she dismissed it as her imagination and resumed to whatever it was she was doing. Letting out a slow, silent breath, Gwyn completed her journey up the stairs and looked around at the second landing.

There were four doors, three of them closed. The fourth led to a bathroom, she noticed as she glanced inside. Of course, the one opposite of the staircase had a series of locks on the door, sealing it shut with the keys hanging right next to it.

"Right, 'cause that's not at all a giveaway," Gwyn muttered darkly as she crossed the staircase just as Mrs. Dursley started climbing up them.

Cursing the woman, she flattened herself against the wall, in the shadows, not moving an inch as Mrs. Dursley pulled a cat-flap open on the locked door and shoved a can of soup into it. She stood up, casting a glance around her, but her eyes passed right over Gwyn without seeing her and returned downstairs without another look.

Waiting a few moments to make sure that she was gone, Gwyn finally dared to look over the staircase and made sure the coast was clear before she walked back over to the locked door, plucking the keys off of the hook and inspecting them before fitting the correct one into each lock.

Finally, she managed to get the last lock released and returned the keys to the lock before turning the handle on the door, pushing it open and peering into the room.

The sole occupant of the room turned around as the door squeaked open and his mouth literally dropped open in surprise.

"Hi, Harry," Gwyn said dryly as she moved into the room, closing the door behind her. "Long time, no see." She stared at her best friend, hardly believing that this was really him. He looked like he'd been starved for awhile and there were bars on his windows as she looked. "Jeez, what have they been doing to you?"

"Gwyn!" Harry Potter exclaimed as he stood up off of his bed. "What are you . . . how did you . . . what . . ." He shook his head. "How did you get in here?" he finally said.

"Broke in," Gwyn said, shrugging. "I am pretty good at sneaking around and avoiding being seen when I want to." She crossed the room over to her best friend and hugged him tightly, noticing that he was a lot thinner than the last time she'd seen him. "How's your summer been?"

"You want an honest answer to that question?" Harry gave her a small smile as they sat down on the bed. "I think I prefer detention with Filch," he said, referring to the school caretaker, who was almost as mean as the Potions Master Snape.

Gwyn winced. "Ouch," she said sympathetically. "So, what's been going on, anyway? Ron and Hermione said that you haven't been answer their letters and I _know_ that you haven't been answering mine . . . not to mention, Ron said his dad heard that you were using magic outside of school and you _know_ that we're not allowed—"

"It wasn't me," Harry interrupted. She blinked. "It was a house-elf."

"A house-elf?" Gwyn echoed, bewildered. From the little she knew about house-elves, they were basically slaves, bound to serve one house for their entire lives unless their master freed them.

"Yeah . . ." Harry immediately launched into an explanation of what had been happening the entire summer. The house elf that had cast the spell, Dobby, had been intercepting his letters in an attempt to keep him from wanting to go back to school. Apparently, there was something that was going to happen at school during their second-year and Dobby wanted to keep Harry as far away from there as he could. He'd cast the spell in the kitchen to make his aunt's pudding hover and then crash, leaving him to deal with the clean-up.

After he'd received the warning from the Ministry of Magic, his aunt and uncle discovered that he wasn't allowed to do magic outside of school and locked him in his room.

" . . . so when you go back to Hogwarts, can you please tell them that the Dursleys have locked me up and won't let me come back, and obviously I can't magic myself out, because the Ministry will think that's the second spell I've done in three days, so—"

"Oh, take a breath," Gwyn said, half-annoyed. "You think that I rode all the way out here just so I could leave you here?" She smiled, shaking her head at him. "No way, I'm getting you out of here. Let's go."

"But you can't magic me out either," Harry reminded her.

"Uh, Harry, I don't know if you've noticed, but I kind of had to unlock the door to get in here," she pointed out, walking over to the door and opening it up. "Come on, let's go."

"But all my Hogwarts stuff—my wand, my broomstick—" Harry began and she looked at him.

"Where is it?" she asked, noticing for the first time that his room was lacking in magical equipment.

"Locked in the cupboard under the stairs," he explained and Gwyn narrowed her eyes, remembering that he'd told her that the cupboard had been his room for ten years before his uncle finally decided to give him Dudley's second bedroom. "And Aunt Petunia will hear if we go down there and get it all out . . ."

"Well, if we get caught, then I'll just have to tell her that my guardian works for the Ministry," Gwyn said, shrugging. "Come on, let's go." She tugged on his arm and he finally grabbed Hedwig's cage and they tiptoed out of the bedroom. "Keep a close watch."

He nodded as they peered over the stairs, looking for his aunt as they slowly and carefully crept downstairs, where they could see Mrs. Dursley in the kitchen still. "If she hears us, I'm dead," Harry muttered as Gwyn approached the cupboard.

It was locked. Gwyn sighed as she glanced up at Harry. "Let me know if she comes," she mouthed at him, pulling a hairpin from her pocket. He stared as she began picking the lock.

"Where'd you learn how to do this?" he asked her quietly, watching her with amazement as the lock clicked open.

"Fred and George taught me," Gwyn answered with a shrug as she pulled the door open and there lay Harry's trunk, with all of his school things in it. "Said that it was probably going to be useful . . . all of it there?"

"Yeah," Harry answered as he checked, opening his trunk and revealing all of his wizard robes, schoolbooks, broomstick, and his wand. Harry pulled his wand out and stuck it in his back pocket before turning to look at her. "Let's get out of here."

A shriek suddenly stopped them from going anywhere and they both turned around to face Mrs. Dursley, a horrified and shocked look on her face as she gaped at the witch and wizard standing in the hallway. "What on earth—how did you—" she gasped. "You're not going anywhere."

"I think it's time to go," Gwyn commented as she pulled her wand out of her pocket and pointed it directly towards Mrs. Dursley, who cowered under the wand point as Gwyn helped Harry push the trunk out the door before he looked back at his aunt, grinning wildly.

"See you next summer," he said cheerfully, causing Gwyn to laugh hard as she stowed her wand and they shut the door behind her. "How did you get here, anyway?"

"Biked," Gwyn explained as she grabbed her bike off of the neighbour's fence and began walking in the direction of her own town. She gave him an apologetic look. "Sorry, we're gonna have to walk. Madeline's not gonna be home for another couple of hours and—"

"Gwyn, I've been locked up for three days," Harry reminded her as he dragged his trunk behind him. She took Hedwig's cage, who hooted happily at the young witch as she hung it on the handlebars. "Believe me, I'd walk to London if it meant I could get out of there." Gwyn chuckled. "Thanks for getting me out of there."

"Don't worry about it," Gwyn sighed. "Besides, if I hadn't, then Ron and Fred and George were going to borrow their dad's flying car and bust you out, and that would've been breaking the law—"

"Their dad's got a flying car?" Harry asked incredulously, looking at her to see if she was joking.

Gwyn nodded, grinning. "Yeah, and if they'd flown it over here, they would've been risking the Statue of Secrecy . . ."


	3. Feeling Betrayed

**Gwyn Swann and the Chamber of Secrets**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Three: Feeling Betrayed

"Here we are," Gwyn announced as they finally reached the cottage that she lived at with Madeline. "Doesn't look like she's home yet . . ." She and Harry hoisted the trunk up the stairs with Hedwig as Gwyn opened the door, pushing it open. "Sorry, it's a little small . . ."

"It's wonderful," Harry said enthusiastically and Gwyn looked around, grinning when she saw all the wizarding items that were lying around the room. Madeline usually put everything away before she left, in case a Muggle came poking around, but she'd left early today and forgotten.

Gwyn grinned as she closed the door behind her, her blonde hair sweeping around her. "Thanks," she said, laying her purse on the chair as she led him upstairs. "Come on, let's go put your stuff in the guest room and then we should probably write to Ron so he won't go out there tonight . . ."

"Yeah, Hedwig would enjoy the chance to stretch her wings," Harry said gratefully as they pushed the trunk up the stairs and into the room across from Gwyn's. "Where's your room?"

"Right across the hall," Gwyn answered, jerking her head as the pushed the trunk to the end of the bed and they headed into her room to get some parchment and some ink. Sitting down at her desk, Gwyn dipped her quill into the ink and began to scribble on the parchment.

_Dear Ron,_

_I got Harry away from there and you're not going to believe what happened. It's a long story, but we'll explain it when we see you. Be sure to tell your mum that he'll be coming when Madeline brings me over tomorrow. We'll see you then. _

_Gwyn_

Looking towards Harry, she offered him the quill. "You want to say hi to Ron?" she asked and he eagerly took it, scribbling a message to Ron before she rolled up the parchment and tied it to Hedwig's leg. She gave a hoot of enthusiasm as she flew out of the window and took flight, became a small white dot in the endless sky.

"We're going to Ron's tomorrow?" Harry asked and she nodded.

"Madeline has to do something for work and it's going to be taking her out of the country." Gwyn rolled her eyes; Madeline worked in the Department of Sports and Games, which sometimes took her out of the country to deal with the Quidditch tournament. "Anyway, it's gonna take her at least until the school year started, so she asked Mrs. Weasley if I could stay with them."

Harry looked slightly nervous. "She's not going to mind an extra houseguest, is she?"

"Are you kidding me? Ron's been saying that she's been worried sick about you as well." Gwyn stood up, casting a glance out the window before turning to look at Harry.

He was looking down at her hand. "That's not healed yet?" he asked, nodding towards her left, which bore a few scars, the remnants of being burned by her own spell trying to get away from the Devil's Snare when they were trying to get to the Sorcerer's Stone.

Gwyn shook her head, rubbing her hand unconsciously over the other one, feeling the scars gently. "No, Madeline doesn't think that they will. I waited awhile to get treatment for it and I was casting a pretty powerful spell to get us away from that, so . . ." She cleared her throat, looking down. "It's probably never going to heal."

"I'm sorry," Harry tried to apologise, but she waved her hand aside, dismissing it immediately.

"Don't worry about it, Harry, it's not your fault. I _chose_ to go down there with you, didn't I?" she asked kindly. "I could've gone right back to the common room. Besides, I think I'll wear it with pride," she said cheerfully. "It's my first war wound."

Harry chuckled as he raised his hand to touch the lightning bolt scar that lay on his forehead, the proof that Voldemort had attacked him years ago and had tried to kill him. But the curse had rebounded upon its caster and rendered Voldemort weak and powerless and he'd fled, leaving the wizarding world to rejoice.

He lowered his hand as he saw a picture on her nightstand and walked over to it. "Is that your mum?" he inquired as he picked it up. Gwyn nodded, smiling towards the picture of her mother.

Like all photos in the wizarding world, the people in the photograph were moving, smiling up at the young witch and wizard. Aurora Swann was laughing as she twirled around with a two-year-old Gwyn in her arms.

"Yeah, that's me and Mum right outside our house," Gwyn answered softly, staring down at her mother's laughing face. "She died a week after this was taken."

Harry said nothing to this as he looked down at her mother before turning towards her. "She's very pretty," he commented. "She looks a lot like you." Gwyn blushed at the compliment, fighting a small smile that was threatening to emerge.

"Thanks," she said, embarrassed, turning away to regain her composure. Clearing her throat, she inquired, "So . . . what do you think Dobby was talking about with that dark plot?"

"I don't know, but he seemed awfully worried about it," Harry admitted, looking anxious. "You don't think he was lying about all of this stuff, do you? Because every time that he was getting close to letting something slip, he started banging his head against the wall . . ."

Gwyn sighed, turning back towards her best friend. "I don't know a whole lot about house elves, to be honest," she admitted, "but the gist of it is that they have got powerful magic, I mean way beyond an average wizard, but they can't use it without their master's permission." She shrugged. "So we'd have to ask Madeline, but I'd say that it was actually their master who sent them with the message."

"Sent who?"

Both Gwyn and Harry jumped as Madeline appeared in the doorway, looking a bit tired, but not at all surprised when she saw Harry sitting in Gwyn's room.

"I had a feeling you might be bring back a guest tonight," she commented with a smile. "Hello, Harry, it's a pleasure to meet you."

"Hello, ma'am," Harry said politely. "I'm sorry to cause so much trouble . . ."

"Oh, no worries," Madeline said, waving her hand away. "The Weasleys and I were already talking about coming and getting you Friday if you hadn't written back to anyone. Now," she added, looking at the two of them curiously, "what's all this about a house elf?"

Gwyn and Harry launched into an explanation and by the time that they were finished, Madeline looked perturbed, but not extremely worried. "I wouldn't worry too much about it," she replied. "House elves aren't allowed to do anything without their master's permission. Sounds to me like someone sent Dobby to try and convince you not to come back to Hogwarts. Someone's idea of a joke. Is there anyone at the school with a grudge against you?"

"Yes," Gwyn said instantly, her thoughts turning to the blond Slytherin that they'd had problems with ever since they had met him on the train on their first day last year.

"Draco Malfoy," Harry explained. They had moved down to the kitchen and began to work on dinner. Although Madeline declined, Harry insisted on helping them. "He hates me," he told her as her eyebrows went up, a distasteful look on her face.

"Lucius Malfoy's son. I wouldn't be at all surprised if it wasn't him. He's a big supporter of You-Know-Who. After he vanished, Lucius insisted that he'd never meant any of it. That he was under You-Know-Who's control. . . . If any of that is true, then I'll eat my own cauldron." She shook her head. "Anyway, I'm pretty sure that the Malfoys own a house elf, considering how wealthy they are. Personally, I wouldn't mind having a house elf around here . . ." She sighed.

As she headed to the cabinet, Harry turned to Gwyn. "Do you think it was a trick?" he asked.

"Considering what happened last year, I wouldn't be surprised if something out of the ordinary occurs," Gwyn said dryly as she looked sideways at him. "School hasn't even started yet and we're already receiving weird warnings about something terrible happening. I think we'd better keep our eyes peeled."

--

"Knight to E-5," Harry said, frowning down at the chess board. After dinner, Madeline had shooed them upstairs to play, which led to digging out their wizard's chess sets and set them up in Gwyn's room. Neither one of them were very good at it, which made the game all the more enjoyable. "This is more fun than playing against Ron."

"Yeah, but not as much fun as watching Ron and Hermione play," Gwyn said, laughing. Chess was the one thing that Hermione wasn't good at it and all three of them agreed that it did her some good to lose at something. "Uh . . . Bishop to F-3."

The bishop moved to the square she had commanded and Gwyn glanced up at Harry. "Have you heard from Hermione?" he asked and she nodded. "How is she?"

"She's good," Gwyn answered as he moved his knight again. "I think she's actually happy that we're going to have schoolwork again. Ron wrote to her that one of us was gonna break you out, so she'll probably be sending us a reply while we're at the Weasleys."

Harry grinned, but looked at her. "So how has _your_ summer been, really?" he asked. "You know what mine's been like, but I haven't heard anything about yours."

Gwyn shrugged. "Queen to D-7," she told her queen before looking at Harry. "It's been quiet. Nothing ever really happens around here. The most that's happened is my dad moving in with his girlfriend and her son." She hadn't meant to say that and the moment that she did, Harry's eyebrows narrowed in concerned.

"Your dad moved in with his girlfriend?" he echoed, reaching over and squeezing her hand in comfort. "Are you okay with that?"

"Why does everybody keep asking me that?" Gwyn demanded, abandoning her attention on the game. "I'm fine with it. Okay, maybe not fine, but you know, we both made choices and if that's the way that Dad wants to live with his, then fine. It's okay, I'll deal with it." She couldn't meet Harry's green, inquiring eyes as she said that.

He stood up and moved over closer to where she was sitting, forcing her to look up at him, straight into his green eyes. "You know, it's just me here, Gwyn," he pointed out. "We can always talk about stuff like this. You can tell me what you're really thinking."

Gwyn sighed, looking away for a minute, oddly comforted by the feeling of his hand over hers. "I don't know," she said after a long moment. "It's strange, but . . . I feel betrayed," she admitted, finally releasing the feelings that she'd kept bottled up ever since she'd found out about William seeing someone the previous December. "It just feels like my dad was waiting for the perfect excuse to get rid of me . . . like he couldn't wait to get rid of the last thing that was reminding him of my mum. And the second that I was out of his life, he tried to forget the life he'd had for the past ten years and . . . pretend like none of it had even happened." She shook her head as unwanted tears started to weld up in her eyes. "I don't remember what it was like, Harry . . . the three of us together, being happy . . . I don't remember Mum . . . but I do remember the way that Dad would look at pictures of her. They were hidden in his desk. Sometimes I would sneak in there to look at them . . . and I remember the look on his face as he looked at her. He loved her, more than anything else in the world. How could he forget about all of that when he loved her so much?"

Harry said nothing as he pulled her against him, holding her reassuringly and rubbing her back soothingly. "I think," he said quietly, "that it hurts him too much to acknowledge anything to do with your mum. I think he's just trying to make the pain go away."

"He might try actually paying attention to his daughter," Gwyn mumbled. "That might help." She smiled, pushing away the tears as she sat up. "Thanks, Harry."

"Don't mention it," Harry told her as she glanced back down at the chessboard, studying it carefully.

"Oh," she said brightly. "Queen to A-6." Her queen moved across the board and smashed Harry's king across the head. She grinned at his astonished expression. "Checkmate."


	4. Return to Diagon Alley

**Gwyn Swann and the Chamber of Secrets**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Four: Return to Diagon Alley

The Burrow where the Weasley family lived at was the image of a large stone pigpen with several stories added and rooms inserted to accommodate the family's living space. The overall effect made it look like it was being held up by magic, which, now that Gwyn thought about it, it probably was. As they arrived at the Burrow, she spotted Mrs. Weasley hurrying out to greet them as they were climbing out of the car.

"It's so wonderful to see you both again," she said enthusiastically as she hugged each of them in greeting. "Harry, I'm so relieved that you're all right. Come on in, it's a pleasure to have you both here. No, don't worry about a thing, Madeline," she added to Gwyn's guardian. "It's a pleasure to have them both here. You just enjoy your business trip."

"That's the thing about business," Madeline said with a wink towards Gwyn. "You don't usually enjoy it." Gwyn laughed as she hugged her guardian goodbye. "Enjoy the rest of your summer, dearest. And mind Mrs. Weasley," she added, giving her ward a stern look.

Gwyn gave her a wounded look in reply. "Oh, come on, Madeline, would I, really?" she asked, causing Madeline to chuckle as she finished her goodbyes and waved to her as she headed towards the car.

When Madeline's car was out of sight, Gwyn followed Harry and Mrs. Weasley up into the house.

Almost the second that they arrived, Ron came barrelling down the stairs, grinning ear to ear when he saw them. "Finally!" he exclaimed. "I was wondering when you two were going to get here. What was going on with the Muggles?" he asked Harry. "How come you weren't writing back?"

When they climbed up the stairs and into Ron's room, which was painted orange and plastered with Chudley Cannons posters, Harry began to explain about Dobby and the warning that he'd given him. Ron was intrigued, but said the same thing that Madeline had told them; that somebody was playing a joke on him and he agreed that it was probably Malfoy.

"Anyway, you're going to be staying in Ginny's room, Gwyn," he said, looking at her. "Be careful, though, she probably won't even let you talk if she gets into one of her jabbering moods. She doesn't shut up half of the time."

"Oh, don't worry," Gwyn said with a shrug. "It'll be fine." Her blonde hair swept around her shoulders as they finally went downstairs to head out to the Quidditch pitch to practice flying. Gwyn voted herself out, preferring to stay on the ground and referee.

Twilight came and went and soon night fell upon them and Gwyn followed Ginny up to her room to go to bed. "Thanks for letting me stay in your room, Ginny," she told the younger girl. "It was awfully nice of you."

Ginny shrugged. "Don't worry about it; Mum was the one who insisted. Besides, it's the only room far enough away that you don't hear the explosions from Fred and George's. Consider it a blessing." Gwyn chuckled as she pulled on her nightgown, sitting down on the cot that had been set up in Ginny's room for her. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

The younger witch turned red as she fidgeted, looking down at her fingers. "Has he ever talked about me?" she asked nervously. "I don't think he really likes me at all and . . ." She glanced up at Gwyn. "Do you think that he likes me? Just a little bit?"

"We're talking about Harry?" Gwyn questioned, a bit surprised and Ginny nodded eagerly, turning as red as her hair at the mention of the dark haired wizard. "Well, sure, of course he does. There's very few people that Harry dislikes. Most of them are Slytherins." Ginny smiled at that. "Don't worry about it; I'm sure that he cares about you."

Ginny smiled as she lay down on her bed. "All right," she agreed as she turned out the light. Gwyn sighed as she leaned against her pillow, a warning trickling into her mind as she thought about Ginny, the youngest child and only daughter of a full household, starting school for the first time.

But pretty soon, sleep overcame her and she let any drifting feelings about her friend's sister slip from her mind and when she woke up the next morning, she didn't remember it at all.

About a week passed by and Gwyn found herself settling into life at the Burrow with surprising ease. Maybe it was the fact that they lived in the wizarding world, but she felt more at ease there than she had ever felt in her own house or even Madeline's. Nearing the end of the week, their school letters arrived with a reminder to be at King's Cross at eleven o'clock on September 1st and their booklists for the coming year.

"Letters from the school," Mr. Weasley announced as he passed them around. "Dumbledore already knows that the two of you are here," he added to Gwyn and Harry. "Doesn't miss a trick, that man."

Gwyn opened up her letter, scanning the first page of the letter before turning to the second and read down the booklist.

SECOND-YEAR STUDENTS WILL REQUIRE:

_The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2_ by Miranda Goshawk

_Break with a Banshee_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

_Gadding with Ghouls_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

_Holidays with Hags_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

_Travels with Trolls_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

_Voyages with Vampires_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

_Wanderings with Werewolves_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

_Year with the Yeti_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

"You've been told to get all Lockhart's books, too!" Fred commented, reading Harry's list over his shoulder. "The new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher must be a fan—bet it's a witch." He caught his mother's eye at this point and quickly busied himself just as an owl fell in through the window unnoticed and collapsed onto the chair next to her.

She gently picked up the owl and helped him stand up. "Errol!" Ron said quickly, snatching the letter from the owl. "_Finally!_ He's got Hermione's answer." He rolled his eyes as Errol collapsed onto the table and opened up the letter, reading it aloud.

_Dear Ron, Gwyn, and Harry if you're there,_

_I hope everything went all right and that Harry is okay and that you didn't do anything illegal to get him out, Ron, because that would get Harry into trouble too. I've been really worried and if Harry is all right, will you please let me know at once, but perhaps it would be better if you used a different owl, because I think another delivery might finish yours off. _

_I've been very busy with schoolwork, of course—_

"How can she be?" Ron demanded, stopping in the middle of the letter to gawk at Hermione's words. "We're on vacation!"

"You mean the summer work that we were _supposed_ to be doing?" Gwyn reminded him, raising an eyebrow. "I'm going to take a huge leap of faith here and assume that you did do it." She gave him a look and he turned red before returning to the letter.

_. . . and we're going to London next Wednesday to buy my new books. Why don't we meet in Diagon Alley? Let me know as soon as you can. _

_Love from_

_Hermione_

"Well, that'll fit in nicely," Mrs. Weasley said brightly, starting to clean the table as she looked around at the two guests and her assemblage of redhead children. "What are you all going to do today?"

--

Gwyn wasn't sure how they were going to get to Diagon Alley, but the way that they got there wasn't what she planned. Floo Powder most definitely wasn't her favourite way to travel. But at least she managed to get to the right place. Harry, unfortunately, had managed to find himself in Knockturn Alley, one of the most dangerous and darkest places that she'd heard about in the wizarding world.

She was with Ron, the twins, and Mr. Weasley searching for Harry when they found him with Hermione Granger at Gringotts bank. "Harry! Hermione!" Gwyn yelled when she spotted them.

"Thank goodness," Mr. Weasley sighed as they approached them. After making sure that Harry was all right, Gwyn hugged Hermione in greeting. "We hoped that you'd only gone one grate too far . . . Molly's frantic, she's coming now . . ."

"It's so good to see you," Hermione said happily to Gwyn, who grinned back at her only female friend.

"Good to see you, too."

After getting their money out of Gringotts—with Ron's dad insisted on taking Hermione's parents, who were Muggles—for a drink—they separated and went their way through Diagon Alley to get their school supplies. They wandered in and out of the shops, getting more parchment and ink for the coming year. Gwyn found an outdated Charms book in a junk shop that had some interesting spells in it, so she bought it. Charms was, by far, her best subject. Hermione even got jealous of Gwyn's natural talent on the subject and she was top in everything else.

It was quarter to twelve when they headed to the bookshop to meet the rest of the Weasleys. Unfortunately, they met a huge crowd when they arrived, so bulging that it was piling out of the bookshop.

"What's going on?" Gwyn asked the rest of them. Hermione squealed as she pointed towards the banner stretched above the shop. Gwyn's eyes collided with it.

GILDEROY LOCKHART

will be signing copies of his autobiography

_MAGICAL ME_

today 12:30 p.m. to 4:30 p.m.

Gwyn released a sigh; she had gotten the impression that Lockhart wasn't all that he was made out to be and really didn't have any desire to meet him. Hermione, on the other hand, looked thrilled. "We can actually meet him! I mean, he's written almost the entire booklist!"

"You think we'll be able to get to our books?" Gwyn asked them. The boys looked about as happy as she felt as they pushed their way through the crowd. She snagged a copy of _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2_ before moving towards the stacks of Lockhart books, reading off to the assistant which ones she needed.

When she had her books, Gwyn moved towards the check out to pay for them when she saw Harry being pulled from the crowd up towards where Lockhart was standing. He looked like he wanted to make a run for it. Gwyn grabbed her bags as she headed back towards Ron and Hermione.

"What's going on?" she muttered to Ron, who gave her a 'what do you think?' look.

"Lockhart pulled Harry out of the crowd for more publicity," he replied as Harry finally managed to free himself from the press and headed towards the entrance. "Oh, and did you hear?"

"Hear what? I was too busy trying to get my books without becoming a squashed bug."

"Guess who the new Defence teacher is?"

Gwyn groaned inwardly, glancing towards the tall, blond, overzealous wizard that was signing away books happily. "Oh, this year is going to be fun," she said sarcastically as they rejoined Harry, who had been ambushed by Malfoy with Ginny standing nearby.

Ron scowled at Malfoy the moment that he saw him, a look of disgust crossing his face as he surveyed the Slytherin. "Oh, it's you. Bet you're surprised to see Harry here, huh?" Gwyn glanced towards Malfoy for any reaction, but Malfoy didn't even flinch.

"Not as surprised as I am to see you in a shop, Weasley," Malfoy countered. "I suppose you're parents will go hungry for a month to pay for all of those." Ron went red as he moved to dump his books into his sister's cauldron and fight Malfoy.

"Ron!" Gwyn said warningly as she got between them. Malfoy's eyes darkened the moment that they rested on her. "Come on, it's crowded in here . . . let's go outside. Now, come on, let's go," she ordered, attempting to usher them all outside. "Move it, come on."

"Yeah, listen to the little Toren spawn," Malfoy said mockingly as the door closed behind them. Gwyn bristled at the term, but otherwise didn't acknowledge that he had spoken. "Should be interesting to see how _she_ turns out. Stupid mother went and married a Muggle, all she's got to show for it is a tombstone and a motherless daughter."

Harry turned to Malfoy angrily, but Gwyn placed a gentle but firm hand on his arm, stopping him from striking Malfoy. She wasn't going to rise to his bait. Much as she wanted to snap at his words, she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction.

"What are you all doing?" Mr. Weasley had arrived, much to her relief. "It's mad in here, let's go outside."

"Well, well, well . . . Arthur Weasley." Gwyn looked towards the new arrival. There was only one man it could be, due to his resemblance to Malfoy. This had to be Malfoy's father, Lucius. He resembled his father as much as Gwyn resembled Aurora. They both had the same pointed chin and the same grey eyes that bore no warmth . . . like an eternal winter fledged through them, blocking out the day.

"Lucius," Mr. Weasley said, just as coldly as Mr. Malfoy had addressed him. He nodded to the blond wizard.

"Busy time at the Ministry, I hear. All those raids . . . I do hope they're paying you overtime." He reached into the cauldron and retrieved a battered and old Transfiguration book. "Obviously not," he commented with distaste. "Dear me, what's the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don't even pay you for it?"

Mr. Weasley looked angrier than Ron or Harry, if that were even possible. "We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy."

"Clearly." Mr. Malfoy's eyes had trained on Hermione's parents, who had approached their daughter and was now watching the scene worriedly. "The company you keep, Weasley . . . and I thought your family could sink no lower—"

Gwyn shrieked as the bookshelves went flying when Mr. Weasley tackled Mr. Malfoy, knocking him backwards. She pulled Ginny out of the way, pushing her friends towards safety as Hagrid arrived and pulled the fight apart. Mr. Malfoy's eyes were glittering dangerously as he shoved Ginny's Transfiguration book at her and had Gwyn been less preoccupied with the fight that had just occurred, she would have noticed that her book seemed a lot thicker than it had a few minutes ago.


	5. A Flying Car

**Gwyn Swann and the Chamber of Secrets**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Five: A Flying Car

Summer came and went all too quickly for Gwyn, who found that living at the Weasleys with two of her best friends was one of the happiest times of her life. But even as she was packing up her things in Ginny's room, her longing for the castle that had become her home over the past year started to heighten and once again, she was looking thrilled to be back at Hogwarts, with all of its mysterious ways, thrills at every corner, and the classes that were way more interesting than her Muggles classes had ever been.

September 1st came and the morning was a zoo, even with getting up at the crack of dawn to get ready. Gwyn nearly collided with Fred twice and her socks kept turning up at odd places—though she strongly suspected that George had something to do with that particular piece of mischief. Tabby was whining as he was placed inside his cage.

"Come on, buddy, we have to get you in there and then get to the train," Gwyn told him as she gently pushed him inside. "And then when we're on the train, I'll let you out for a little bit, all right? Don't you want to be back at the castle, Tabby?" He meowed as he licked her hand, grudgingly allowing her to lock him inside and she finally managed to get her things downstairs—albeit not without running into Percy, Fred, and Ron.

The Ford Anglia that Ron and the twins were going to steal to rescue Harry with if it hadn't been for Gwyn's interference was fixed with all kinds of magical features and not just flying. It also had been expanded so that it could fit seven trunks in the back and sit nine people all too easily. Mr. Weasley helped her load in her trunk as Tabby was meowing for attention inside of his cage, begging to be let out.

"Doesn't like the cage too much, does he?" Mr. Weasley observed with a smile as he loaded Tabby into the car.

"No, it's not that, he's just trying to get some attention," Gwyn sighed as she headed up to the boys' room to help them pack. They were already pressing for time by the time that they were all climbing in the car, but after they'd had to stop three different times to get something that they'd forgotten, they were running very late.

By the time that they had reached King's Cross, it was only a quarter to eleven, when the train was supposed to leave. Gwyn was right behind Ginny and the Weasleys with Harry and Ron behind her as she passed through the solid barrier between Platforms Nine and Ten to reach Platform 9 ¾.

Gwyn broke into a smile as she saw the bright red steam train that she had rode on just three months ago that took her from Hogwarts back to the Muggle world. And now, she was taking back to the only place that she had ever truly belonged.

"Hurry up, dear, onto the train," Mrs. Weasley instructed as she pushed her trunk onto the train with Tabby. "And you boys . . ." She paused, looking around in bewilderment. "Where are Harry and Ron?"

Looking around, Gwyn frowned at the disappearance of her two friends, as bewildered as Mrs. Weasley looked. "I—I don't know, maybe they already got on," she said slowly. "Well, thanks for having me stay, Mrs. Weasley."

"You're welcome, Gwyn, but _quickly_! Get on!" Gwyn obeyed as she clamoured up onto the train just as it was starting to move and she waved goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley as they disappeared into the distance. She sighed, wondering where Harry and Ron had gotten two as she moved through the train, trying to find either them or Hermione.

She was halfway through the train when she slammed into a tall, blond sixth-year wizard with dark eyes that showed no warmth in them. Gwyn shivered as she looked up into them, almost afraid of the coldness that she saw there. He stood up as she scrambled to her feet.

"Watch where you're going, Gryffindor," he snarled, glancing at her red and gold insignia before sweeping past her. He paused for a moment, glancing down at her and his mouth opened slightly in surprise before he glared down at her and walked away without another word.

"Gee, rude much?" Gwyn mumbled as she dragged her trunk behind her, carrying Tabby's cage in the other hand as she searched for any sign of her best friends. Thankfully, she found Hermione in the next compartment with Ginny and Neville Longbottom, a fellow Gryffindor.

"Gwyn!" Hermione stood up, looking thrilled to see her. "Finally! I was wondering where you'd gotten to!" She helped her drag in her trunk and when it was safely in the holding with the others' trunks, she looking around. "Where are Harry and Ron?"

"You haven't seen them yet?" Gwyn asked, alarmed. "I don't know, they were right behind me in the station and the next thing I know, they're gone." She shook her head. "But they must have gotten on; they weren't three feet behind me."

Hermione frowned, obviously thinking the same thing that she was. Harry always seemed to find himself in a fix and Ron was usually eager to go along with it. Had he found himself in some more trouble? Why weren't they on the train?

"Well, I'm sure that they're fine," Hermione said with a certainty that Gwyn didn't feel. "Anyway, even if they did miss the train, they can just send a letter and tell Professor McGonagall and they'll make sure that they get here."

Gwyn sighed, worry still weighing down upon her, but she said nothing more on the subject as she walked towards Neville. "Hi, Nev, how was your summer?" she asked as she embraced him fondly. Neville shyly returned the hug, a bit red as he pulled back.

"It wasn't too bad," Neville said as she sat down in the seat next to the window, letting Tabby out of his cage, placing him in her lap and stroking him absently as Neville told her about his summer. She listened to him; at least Neville talking pulled her away from worrying about her best friends. For the moment, anyway.

--

Gwyn's worry, however, didn't disappear as the train ride progressed and they slowly began leaving the Muggle world behind. There had been no sign of Harry or Ron anywhere, though they'd ask several people who'd stepped in to say hello, but no one had seen him. After a long while, it was certain that neither of them had gotten on the train.

As they climbed on the carriages that would take them to the castle, Gwyn could've sworn that she'd heard the sound of a car, but when she glanced around, she didn't see anything.

Besides, a car in a wizarding village like this? There was no way that it would be there without attracting attention. Gwyn sighed, climbing onto the carriage as it carried her up to Hogwarts, which was gleaming on the clear night, welcoming back its students.

It looked as magnificent as it had the last time she'd seen it. Gwyn smiled as it came into view, gazing up at it as she remembered when she'd done this the previous year, the first time that she'd laid eyes on the castle. It was only a year ago, but somehow it seemed like a lifetime ago.

Gwyn was behind Hermione and Neville as they climbed up the steps and into the castle, feeling a sense of warmth wash over her. She was home, she thought with a smile as she entered the Great Hall, which was alight with candles and banners.

Sitting down at the Gryffindor table with the rest of the second-years, Gwyn once again swept around the table for any sign of Harry or Ron, but they still weren't there. But, she noticed as she glanced up at the table, neither was Professor Snape, the head of Slytherin House and Potions Master.

For some particular reason, this didn't give her much to look forward to. Snape held a particular grudge against Harry because he'd _loathed_ Harry's father James during school and he wasn't exactly thrilled with Gwyn either. According to Madeline, her mother had done something that Snape didn't particularly like, but she'd never explained what it was.

"Where's Snape?" Gwyn whispered to Hermione, who shrugged as the first-years walked in. Ginny was easily recognised with her bright red Weasley hair gleaming by the candles, but Gwyn's attention had been drawn to another redheaded Weasley standing just outside the door, along with Harry.

Relief surged through her as she saw her best friends, but it turned to horror as she saw Snape standing right behind them. Harry's green eyes caught her blue ones as she directed his attention right behind them and he turned around to find the Potions Master. He cast a helpless look back at Gwyn as he and Ron were escorted away from the Great Hall by Snape, who gave a loathing look in Gwyn's direction.

It would probably be the only time in Gwyn's life that she wanted the feast to be over with quickly. She waited impatiently for the Sorting to be over—and could barely even clap when Ginny was sorted into Gryffindor—and ate what she could, which wasn't very much.

"Did you hear?" she heard a voice whisper down the table. "Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were caught flying a car to school!"

Choking on her food, Gwyn swallowed her pumpkin juice to force the food down as she looked towards the fifth-year who had spoken. "Wait a minute, they did _what_?" she demanded. The fifth-year looked at her in surprise, but seemed to recognise her.

"Oh, you're their friend, right?" he asked. "Yeah, that's what I heard, they flew a car to Hogwarts and crashed it right into the Whomping Willow." Gwyn had heard of that particular tree; it was a fierce tree that hit anybody who got too close to it.

"Hermione," Gwyn said sharply as the feast slowly started to break up, "come on, let's go find them."

Obviously reading the look on Gwyn's face, Hermione stood up and headed after her as the rest of the school began to head to their own houses. "What is it?"

"It's Harry and Ron," Gwyn told her as they made their way up to Gryffindor Tower. She had the feeling that they were going to be there and, not having seen a Gryffindor prefect yet, they wouldn't know the password. "A fifth-year told me that they were caught flying a car to Hogwarts." Hermione mouth fell open, appalled. "Come on."

They headed up the castle, through the many staircases and corridors that led to Gryffindor Tower. "What do you suppose possessed them to fly a _car_ to Hogwarts?" Hermione demanded. "Anything could have happened, they could have crashed or been seen—"

"I think they were seen," Gwyn told her and Hermione, if that were possible, looked even more horrified. "Snape was leading them away when I saw them just before the Sorting."

"Snape?!"

"Yeah," Gwyn sighed as they reached Gryffindor Tower, where the painting of the Fat Lady hung, hiding the common room from anyone but Gryffindor students. Sure enough, Harry and Ron were right outside, unable to get into the common room. "There you two are!"

Harry looked relieved as she approached them. "I don't know whether I want to slap you or just be grateful that you two haven't been expelled," Gwyn snapped at him, angry. "What were you two thinking? People are saying that you flew a car to Hogwarts. Tell me that they were exaggerating." She paused, looking at them. "You haven't been expelled, right?"

"No, of course not!" Harry hastened to assure her. Hermione gaped at the two of them.

"You're not saying that you did fly a car to school!"

"Skip the lecture," Ron told her, annoyance evident in his voice. Hermione gave him a seething look that he didn't even step back from. Gwyn rolled her eyes; one day, they were going to kill each other. "And tell us what the new password is."

"It's 'wattlebird,'" Hermione answered impatiently. "But that's not the point—"

Gwyn glared at Harry as the door swung opened. She climbed up through the portrait hole with Hermione and Ron still arguing behind them as he hurried to catch up with her.

"You're not going to be mad forever, are you?" he asked her as they climbed up into the common room. She glanced at him and relented; after all, she cared about him too much to stay mad at him.

"No, I'm not," she muttered, giving him a look. "I'm just going to stay mad at you until the morning. Honestly, Harry, after that warning that we got from Dobby, I don't think that was the best way to start off the school year—"

"I know," Harry sighed just as they entered the common room. The entire house had stayed up to await the arrival of the two car-fliers. Gwyn sighed as they all were congratulated, treating them as if they were heroes or something.

Giving Harry a look that said that they would talk about it later, Gwyn headed up to her dormitory, where her trunk was already waiting for them. Tabby was curled up onto the bed and she pet him once as she unlocked her trunk, pulling out the leather bound journal that Madeline had given her the previous Christmas.

_I'm back at Hogwarts, about to start my second-year. And of course, my best friends decide that the best thing that they needed to do was fly a car to school . . ._

AN: Okay, guys, I'm a little bit upset by the lack of reviews on the last chapter. I really don't think one review is _that_ much to ask for. So, please review this one and the last one, if you have any compassion for this writer in your hearts. Please?

Lady Dawson


	6. First Day Back

**Gwyn Swann and the Chamber of Secrets**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Six: First Day Back

It was still early when Gwyn woke up in her dormitory, Tabby curled up at the end of her bed. She let out a soft groan as she pushed herself up off of her bed, slipping out from the warm covers as she pulled on her dressing gown, retrieving her school uniform from her trunk and heading into the bathroom to change and take a quick shower.

Her blonde hair was dripping as she returned to the dormitory to brush it out as the other four Gryffindor second-year girls were starting to wake up. "You're up early," Lavender observed.

"Couldn't sleep," Gwyn replied as she laid her brush onto her nightstand and slipped her shoes on, patting Tabby on the head as she looked towards her best friend. "Hermione, do you want me to wait for you?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, I'll see you in the Great Hall with Ron and Harry," she told her. It was clear that she was still upset with the boys about their little stunt the previous evening. Gwyn wasn't happy about it, but she wasn't mad about it anymore either.

"Okay, I'll see you later."

Picking up her bag, Gwyn exited the girls' dormitories to find the common room started to gather with students as she made her way through the crowded room towards the portrait hole.

"Gwyn!"

She glanced around towards Harry as he hurried to catch up with her. "Morning," he said as he fell into step next to her. "You're not still angry about the car incident, are you?" His green eyes looked straight into her blue ones and she sighed, shaking her head.

"No, because unfortunately, Potter, I can't seem to stay mad at you forever," she grumbled, giving him a look. "You're lucky that I like you, you are well aware of that, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I know," Harry said, grinning at her. She smiled back at him, shaking her head as they walked through the castle together.

"So, if you don't mind my asking, why exactly did you fly the car to Hogwarts? How could you have missed the train, anyway? You two were right behind me?" she asked. She had wondered that for most of the night.

"I know, we were coming right in after you, but right after you passed through, the gateway shielded itself or something," Harry explained. Gwyn raised her eyebrows in bewilderment. "We couldn't get through . . . we're not exactly sure what happened but it wouldn't let us through. Then Ron suggested that we take the car and then . . . well, you know the rest."

"Hmm . . . of all the trees that you could have hit when you crash-landed, you just had to hit the one that would hit you back," Gwyn said with a chuckle, a small smile spreading across her face. Harry grinned, looking glad that she wasn't angry with him any longer.

"Only with my luck." Gwyn shook her head as she wrapped her arm around him and he hugged her shoulders.

"I'm glad that you're okay, though. But if you ever try something like that again, I will personally curse you into next century," she threatened.

"No more flying illegal cars," Harry promised her as they reached the Great Hall and settled down at the table. "Besides, if Ron and I cause any more trouble, then Dumbledore's got no choice but to expel us." Gwyn paled at the thought of them being so close to expelled before term had even started, but Hermione had arrived by that time and breakfast started to appear.

Hermione gave Harry a look that clearly said that she still wasn't happy with him as she propped up _Voyages with Vampires_ against a milk jug. "Morning," she said stiffly as she poured herself some porridge.

Gwyn looked at Harry and gave him a shrug. "Was Ron still asleep when you left?" she asked.

"Yeah, he should be getting here any minute," Harry answered, glancing towards the door. "In fact, here he comes now . . ."

Sure enough, Ron plopped down in the seat next to Harry as Gwyn poured herself some porridge as well as the mail began to arrive. Unlike Muggle mail, the mail arrived by hundreds of owls flying over the ceiling, searching for their recipient. Gwyn usually only got mail from Madeline, but since she was travelling abroad, she didn't expect a letter from her just yet; she'd only received one a few days ago.

However, a large grey owl dropped down into Hermione's milk jug and she got covered in milk and feathers. She grimaced as she brushed the owl feather's off and patted the milk down as she recognised the owl—Errol, the Weasleys' ancient owl.

"Errol!" Ron sighed as he picked up the owl and his face paled as he saw the red envelope that he was carrying. "Oh, no . . ."

"It's all right, he's still alive," Hermione said as she inspected Errol.

However, Ron shook his head wildly, his eyes fixed on the red envelope fearfully. "No, it's not that," he whispered. "It's that."

Gwyn frowned in bewilderment, giving a curious look towards Harry and Hermione, both of whom, like her, had been raised in the Muggle world. Neither one of them seemed to see anything wrong with the envelope either.

"What's the matter?" Harry asked, voicing all three of their unspoken question.

"She's—she's sent me a Howler," Ron whispered.

"You'd better open it, Ron," Neville advised. "It'll be worse if you don't. My gran sent me one worse and I ignored it and"—Neville gulped as he thought about whatever had happened—"it was awful."

"What's a Howler?" Harry asked them.

"No idea," Gwyn answered, shrugging as the envelope begun to smoke at the edges and Ron, with some more encouragement from Neville, slowly slit the envelope open. Neville plugged his ears at the last second.

Gwyn covered her ears the second that the roaring from Mrs. Weasley exploded from the envelope, but she could still hear the words coming from it. Dust shook from the ceiling, the silverware clattered, and the words echoed from within the Great Hall.

"_**—STEALING The CAR, I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY'D EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU, I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT WAS GONE—**_"

Ron pushed himself down as people tried to see who had gotten the Howler that was throbbed everyone's eardrums.

"_**—LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME, WE DIDN'T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, YOU AND HARRY COULD BOTH HAVE DIED—**_" Harry winced as he was mentioned, but put on an expression that he couldn't hear anything. "_**—ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED—YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT AND IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE, WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT HOME**_."

Gwyn's ears were ringing as the Howler finished the message and dropped onto the table in ashes. Ron was sitting there, stunned as talk began to break out across the Great Hall again.

Closing her book, Hermione looked towards Ron reproachfully. "Well, I don't know what you expected, Ron, but you—"

"Don't tell me that I deserved it."

Harry had pushed away his porridge, looking guilty, and Gwyn decided to move away from the subject. "I wonder what we've got first today," she said, looking towards where McGonagall was walking along the Gryffindor table, passing out the course schedules.

"Let's see here," she said, pausing as she reached them. "Miss Granger . . . Miss Swann . . . Potter . . . Weasley . . . there you are," she said, handing them each their schedules. Gwyn glanced down at her schedule and inwardly groaned.

"Great, double Herbology first," she grumbled. Next to History of Magic, Herbology was her worst subject.

"I thought you did rather well on your final exam," Hermione pointed out as they stood up to head towards the greenhouses.

Gwyn looked at her. "I said that I did reasonably well, considering that I was half-expecting some deranged, homicidal lunatic to come bursting in the door at any moment," she corrected. Hermione gave her a wry smile as they walked out the steps and onto the ground.

Apparently, Hermione had decided that the Howler was enough punishment for the boys, because she was now talking to them and quite friendly at that. Of course, that could have been due to the fact that Professor Lockhart was hanging outside of the greenhouses, giving Professor Sprout, the Herbology teacher, advice on how to handle the Whomping Willow, which needed treatment from being crashed into with a car.

"Hello there!" he said cheerfully as the students approached. Several of the girls, excluding Gwyn, were practically falling over at Lockhart's feet. "Just been showing Professor Sprout to doctor a Whomping Willow! But I don't want you running away with the idea that I'm better at Herbology than she is! I just happen to have met several of these exotic plants on my travels . . ."

"Does he ever shut up?" Gwyn muttered to Harry, who hid a smile behind his hand as they were ushered into Greenhouse three, which was home to some of the more dangerous plants. Unfortunately, just as they were entering, Lockhart grabbed Harry and pulled him away from the group to talk to him before class started.

They started working on Mandrakes, which was used to restore people who had been petrified to their original state. But they were also dangerous; to hear the Mandrake's cry was fatal, so they had to wear earmuffs while they were replanting the Mandrakes.

Replanting the Mandrakes was difficult and by the time that they were heading back up to the castle, Gwyn was covered with dirt and was aching from head to toe. "Why do I bother taking a shower right before I go to Herbology?" she asked Hermione as they quickly cleaned up in the girls' room before rejoining the boys and heading to Transfiguration, where they had to transform beetles into coat buttons.

It took her a little while to remember how to Transfigure, but eventually, she managed to cast the spell properly, though the buttons still had markings on it from the beetle. McGonagall was hardly thrilled with the end result, though Gwyn suspected it had more to do with Ron's broken wand, which had snapped during the car accident and now wasn't working properly. While trying to cast the spell, Ron had ended up conjuring thick, grey smoke that smelled reminiscent of rotten eggs and had smashed his beetle.

"Stupid—useless—thing—" Ron grumbled as the dismissal bell rang and he whacked his wand on the desk. The wand released a series of cannon bangs, making Gwyn jump as she dropped her Transfiguration book.

"Write home for another one," Harry suggested as he handed Gwyn her book and they left Transfiguration to go down to lunch.

"Oh, yeah, and get another Howler back," Ron grumbled as he shoved his wand into his bag. "_'It's your owl fault your wand got snapped—'_"

"Well, you can't use that one forever," Gwyn said reasonably. "If it keeps up at this rate, then eventually, you're going to get hit with one of your own spells." She held up her hand, with burn scars on it. "Not fun."

Ron winced inwardly as they entered the Great Hall.

"What have we got this afternoon?" Harry asked as they sat down at the Gryffindor table for lunch.

"Defence Against the Dark Arts," Hermione answered, who had produced a handful of perfect coat buttons during Transfiguration. This did nothing to improve Ron's mood as he seized her schedule, frowning at it. Gwyn noticed that she had decorated the Defence lessons with hearts.

"Why have you outlined all of Lockhart's lessons in little hearts?" Ron demanded. Hermione blushed, seizing her schedule back, not answering him.

Gwyn shook her head, glancing up as she felt someone watching her and she glanced over, suspiciously, at the Slytherin table. Sure enough, the same blond sixth-year she'd run into on the train was sitting there. "That's him," she said softly. All three of her friends looked at her. "That's the sixth-year I ran into on the train there. The tall blond one."

Harry looked over at the Slytherin table and saw who she was talking about almost immediately. "The one who looks like there's muck under his nose?" he asked and she nodded.

"I've seen him before, but I don't know his name," Hermione said thoughtfully, glancing at the Slytherin. "Don't worry about it, Gwyn, I'm sure that it's nothing."

Gwyn might have believed that if Ron hadn't been looking very firmly into his cup once he saw who she was talking about, not looking up at any one of them. She nudged Harry and nodded at Ron. "You look mighty conspicuous like that, you know, Ron?" she asked. "What is it? What do you know?"

Ron sighed, looking like it was the last thing that he wanted to do, but gave in. "All right, his name's Alaric," he told her, sitting up straight. He raised his head to look at directly in the eye. "Alaric _Toren_."

Gwyn stared. "Toren?"

"Yeah, his dad was your mum's older brother," Ron explained. "Which makes him your cousin." Gwyn glanced towards Alaric, now understanding why he had looked so surprised the other day. "I wouldn't go anywhere near him if I were you, Gwyn. The Torens are bad blood, the whole lot of them. They might spit out one or two decent ones, but for the most part, it's better to stay away from them. They're more or less like the Malfoys."

Gwyn frowned, already knowing that her mother's family wasn't exactly the most virtuous around, but still . . . "He is family, though," she pointed out.

Ron shook his head. "Because you know that piece of information," he pointed out. "Since when has any of your mum's family ever been involved in your life? Take it from me, Gwyn, you don't want to get involved with them."

And as she took one last look at Alaric, his dark eyes glittering dangerously as he watched her, something inside of her, where her Seeing powers were slowly progressing, seemed to agree with Ron.

--

As she walked into Defence Against the Dark Arts, Gwyn took the seat next to Harry, who looked like he was about to explode. Moments before, a first-year, Colin Creevey, had attempted to take a picture of him and asked him to sign it, resulting in Malfoy taunting him about giving out signed photos and Lockhart coming around and assumed that Harry had been the one to come up with the idea.

"You could've fried an egg on your face," Ron observed as he took the seat on Harry's other side. Hermione sat down next to Gwyn, taking out her books. "You'd better hope Creevey doesn't meet Ginny or they'll be starting a Harry Potter fan club."

"Shut up," Harry snapped as Gwyn shot Ron a warning look. Lockhart didn't need to be hearing the words 'Harry Potter fan club,' not after the two times that day that Lockhart had believed that Harry was going around, attracting attention to himself.

"Anyway, don't worry about it, Harry," Gwyn told him as the rest of the class poured into the room, taking seats eagerly. "Who cares what he thinks, anyway? He's just an arrogant, self-absorbed wizard whose got an ego the size of a—"

"Good afternoon, class!" Lockhart announced as he closed the door to start the lesson. He picked up Neville's copy of _Travels with Trolls_ and smiled pleasantly as he held up his portrait on the front. "Me," he told them. "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League, and five-time winner of _Witch Weekly's_ Most-Charming-Smile Award—but I don't talk about that," he added. "I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!"

He looked around with a broad smile, as though expecting them to laugh, but only a few people managed even a smile. Hermione was sitting up straight, paying close attention.

"I see you've all bought a complete set of my books—well done. I thought we'd start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about—just to check how well you've read them, how much you've taken in." He passed out the papers and Gwyn glanced down at the questions, hardly surprised when she found every single question to be about him. She was definitely going to fail this quiz with a passion. "You have thirty minutes—start—now!" He turned over the hourglass to mark the time.

Dipping her quill in her ink, Gwyn wrote down the best answers that she could, trying to remember anything helpful from her reading. After a half-hour passed, Gwyn passed in her paper, already knowing that this class wasn't going to be any use this year.

"Tut, tut—hardly any of you remembered that my favourite colour is lilac," Lockhart commented as he flipped through the quizzes, shaking his head in dismal. "I say so in _Year with the Yeti_. And a few of you need to read _Wanderings with Werewolves_ more carefully—I clearly state in Chapter Twelve that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic peoples—though I wouldn't say no to a large bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey!" He chuckled as he continued to look through them. " . . . but Miss Hermione Granger knew my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair-care potions—good girl! In fact—" He glanced over her quiz and smiled broadly. "Full marks! Where is Miss Hermione Granger?" Hermione held up her hand and he beamed at her. "Excellent! Quite excellent! Take ten points for Gryffindor! And so—to business—"

Lifting a large, covered cage onto his desk, Lockhart looked at them all. "Now—be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind! You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room! Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here. All I ask is that you remain calm. I must ask you not to scream," he added, placing a hand on the cover. "It might provoke them!" He whipped the cover off of the cage, revealing small, blue pixies. "_Freshly caught Cornish pixies!_" he said dramatically.

"They're not very dangerous, are they?" Seamus Finnigan said, looking like he was trying very hard not to laugh.

"Don't be so sure!" Lockhart warned him. "Devilishly tricky little blighters they can be!" The pixies were rattling in the cage, Gwyn noticed, making faces at the people closes to them. "Right then! Let's see what you make of them!" He opened the cage.

If any word could describe the events of what happened next, it could only be mayhem in its purest form. Gwyn ducked as the pixies flew off in every direction, causing chaos throughout the room and effectively destroying everything in sight. Within minutes, the windows were broken, several of the books had ink stains on them, pictures were torn from the walls, the wastebasket was turned over, the entire class had followed Gwyn's example and hid under their desks, and Neville was dangling from the chandelier on the ceiling.

"Come on now—round them up, they're only pixies!" Lockhart shouted as he brandished his wand. "_Pekipiksi Pesternomi!_"

The spell did absolute nothing but cause the pixies to throw his wand out the window as the students made a mad rush towards the door. Lockhart hesitated, then joined them, glancing towards Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Gwyn as they were heading towards the door. "I'll ask the four of you to just nip the rest of them into their cage."

"Unbelievable!" Gwyn sighed as they were forced to stay in the classroom to collect the pixies.


	7. Prejudices and Voices

**Gwyn Swann and the Chamber of Secrets**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Seven: Prejudices and Voices

The week sped by faster than Gwyn expected it to, between Lockhart's abysmal lessons and the sudden appearance of a cousin she'd never even knew she'd had, and when Saturday came, she was quite relieved of it. Still, she woke up early, woken by the same dreams that she'd had ever since she was a little girl, her mother dying, attacking by a man wearing a skull mask. It was always the same dream, never anything different.

Climbing out of bed, Gwyn quickly showered and dressed before heading down into the common room to find Harry carrying his broomstick and being stalked, once again, by Colin Creevey. The first-year had taken to trailing Harry everywhere, trying to get pictures of him any chance that he got. It would have been funny if he wasn't so annoying and tended to do it whenever Lockhart was around.

"Quidditch practice?" she asked as relief spread across his face when he saw her and he nodded, giving her a pleading look, desperately hoping that she would be able to get rid of Colin.

Getting the hint, Gwyn looked towards Colin. "Um, Colin, why don't we go down to the library and see if Madam Pince has any books on Potions that could help you?" she suggested. "Ginny told me that you were having some problems in that area . . ." That much was true; Ginny had told her that Colin was having trouble in Potions.

Colin looked highly disappointed that he wasn't going to be able to follow Harry to Quidditch practice, but Harry had already escaped by this time, sending her a grateful look as she went down with Colin to the library, helping him select several Potions books that had been of great interest to her last year. Colin was clutching the books as they walked to the Great Hall and she joined Ron and Hermione.

"Harry's at Quidditch practice," Ron told her as he push a full piece of toast into his mouth at once.

"Yeah, I know," Gwyn answered, wondering how boys could eat that much food at one time. "I saw him before he left. Colin was trailing him again." She glanced towards the first-year, but realised that he had disappeared. "And I guess he's back on that."

Hermione chuckled. "Well, let's finish up and see if we can go see how they're doing," she said, glancing down at her watch. "They _must_ be nearly done by now."

But they weren't. By the time that they reached the Quidditch field, Harry and his team-mates were walking out of the locker rooms, broomsticks in hand. All of them, excluding Wood, the team captain, looked exhausted for having to get up at the crack of dawn. And judging from the looks of them, Gwyn guessed that they'd had to endure one of Wood's long-winded talks.

"Haven't you finished yet?" Ron asked Harry as they sat down in the bleachers.

Harry shook his head, looking longingly at the toast that Ron had swiped from the Great Hall. "Haven't even started yet," he answered as the team moved onto the field. "Wood's been teaching us new moves."

Gwyn winced sympathetically as she sat down on the bleachers, craning her neck back as she leaned against the row behind her. Half-laying down and half-sitting, she watched as the Gryffindor team began to practice. Colin was standing nearby, clicking pictures every second. Hermione had her Transfiguration book open and was working on improving the beetle to buttons spell that they'd done the first day. Gwyn could've told her that she didn't need to improve it, but dissuading Hermione about schoolwork was more trouble than it was worth.

"Hey, what's the Slytherins doing here?" Ron asked suddenly and Gwyn sat up straight, wincing as she pulled herself out of the uncomfortably position very suddenly and rubbed the back of her neck.

Glancing down at the field, she saw what Ron was talking about. The Gryffindors had dismounted and were talking to the Slytherin team. Wood, Gwyn noticed, looked mad enough to spit fire at the Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint. "Looks like trouble," Gwyn observed as she stood up, climbing down the bleachers two at a time. "Come on, let's go find out what this is all about."

Hermione and Ron obviously agreed, because they were following her in an instant, hurrying down to the field to see what the trouble was. Gwyn noticed as she reached the field that Malfoy was among the Slytherin team and she tried to stop a smile from forming on her lips; who in their right mind would put _Malfoy_ on the Quidditch team?

"Oh, look," Flint said mockingly as he saw them approach. "A field invasion."

"What's happening?" Ron asked, looking towards Harry questioningly. "Why aren't you playing? And what's _he _doing here?"

"I'm the new Slytherin Seeker, Weasley," Malfoy said as Ron noticed his green Quidditch robes. "Everyone's just been admiring the brooms my father's bought for the team." Ron gawked at the seven shining broomsticks that they were presented with. "Good, aren't they? But perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms, too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives; I expect a museum would bid for them."

"Your father bought the brooms for the team?" Gwyn clarified and Malfoy smugly nodded. "Oh. Well that explains it. I wondered why anybody in their right mind would put you on the team. Now I understand completely."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Malfoy demanded, his smug look flickering as he glared at her.

"It means that nobody on the Gryffindor team had to _buy_ their way in," Hermione replied. "_They_ got in on pure talent."

That was all it took for Malfoy's smug look to be removed clear off of his face. "No one asked your opinion," he growled at Hermione, "you filthy little Mudblood."

Even Gwyn, who had no idea what the word meant, knew that Malfoy had called her something really bad, because of the upheaval that met his words. Flint was forced to jump between the Weasley twins and his Seeker to prevent Fred and George from tackling him. Alicia Spinnet had shrieked, "How _dare_ you!" And Ron, pulling out his wand from his robes, pointed it directly at Malfoy.

"You'll pay for that one, Malfoy!" he roared. "Eat slugs!" The wand erupted a jet of green light, but as Gwyn had predicted earlier, it shot out of the wrong end and hit Ron in the stomach.

"Ron!" Hermione shrieked, rushing to his side. Gwyn and Harry were right behind her, squatting down next to their friend to see if he was all right. But clearly, with one look at him, Ron was far from being all right. "Ron! Are you all right?"

Opening his mouth, Ron belched and several slugs erupted from his mouth, onto the ground. Gwyn bit her lip as she looked at Harry, who seemed to be thinking the exact same thing that she was. "Let's get him to Hagrid's, it's nearest," he told Hermione, who nodded as she hoisted Ron up with Harry and they moved out of the Quidditch pitch and headed for Hagrid's hut.

Thankfully, the only person that they met was Lockhart and they ducked behind some bushes to hide from him, preventing him from attempting to do any more harm than Ron was already in. Only when Lockhart passed and was out of sight did they move from the bushes and Gwyn knocked on the door.

Hagrid looked slightly annoyed as he answered, but brightened the moment that he saw them. "Bin wonderin' when you'd come ter see me—come in, come in—thought you mighta been Professor Lockhart back again—"

He let them inside and with one look at Ron, provided him with a large bucket in front of him, letting him get all of the slugs out. "Better out than in," he said cheerfully. "Get 'em all up, Ron."

"I don't think there's anything to do except wait for it to stop," Hermione said anxiously as Ron heaved slugs into the bucket. "That's a difficult to work at the best of times, but with a broken wand—"

Gwyn sighed as she ran her fingers through her blonde hair, glancing worriedly at Ron. "I'd say that 'I told you so' about the wand, but I think that you're getting enough punishment for that."

She was met with three pairs of incredulous eyes and she shut up, scratching Hagrid's dog Fang, but Fang, apparently smelling Tabby on her, bounded over to Harry, who scratched him behind the ears. "What did Lockhart want with you, Hagrid?" he asked.

"Givin' me advice on gettin' kelpies out of a well," Hagrid replied, not looking pleased at the mention of the new Defence teacher. He picked up the teapot and poured them each a cup of tea. Ron waved it away, not wanting to risk making the curse worse. "Like I don' know. An' bangin' on about some banshee he banished. If one word of it was true, I'll eat my kettle."

"Why did Dumbledore even hire him?" Gwyn asked miserably. "Surely there was somebody else that was more qualified for the job . . ."

Hagrid shook his head. "Nah, wasn' that. He was the on'y man for the job. An' I mean the on'y one. Getting' very difficult ter find anyone fer the Dark Arts job. People aren't too keen ter take it on, see. They're startin' ter think it's jinxed. No one's lasted long fer a while now. So tell me," he added, looking at Ron curiously now, "who was he tryin' to curse?"

"Malfoy," Harry and Gwyn answered.

"He called Hermione something," Harry added. "It must have been really bad because everyone went wild."

"It was bad," Ron said as he emerged from his basin, his face pale and sweaty. "Malfoy called her 'Mudblood,' Hagrid—" He disappeared as another wave of slugs decided to make an appearance.

"He didn'!" Hagrid exclaimed, looking outraged. Hermione nodded.

"He did," she clarified. "I don't know what it means, but I could tell it was really rude, of course—"

"It's about the most insulting thing he could think of," Ron explained as he re-emerged. "Mudblood's a really foul name for someone who is Muggle-born—you know, non-magic parents. There are some wizards, like Malfoy's name—who think they're better than everyone else because they're what people call pure-blood. I mean, the rest of us know it doesn't make any difference at all. Look at Neville—he's pure-blood and he can hardly stand a cauldron up the right way."

"An' they haven't invented a spell our Hermione can' do," Hagrid added proudly. Hermione was embarrassed at his words, but smiled up at him.

"It's a disgusting thing to call someone," Ron continued. "Dirty blood, see. Common blood. It's ridiculous. Most wizards these days are half-blood anyway. If we hadn't married Muggles, we'd've died out."

Now Gwyn understood why everyone had reacted the way that they had. She already knew that Malfoy thought that all Muggle-borns were scum, but it hadn't occurred to her until now that there had to be a lot of other wizards who thought the same way he did. "Well, it's probably a good thing that your curse backfired," she pointed out. "I think you would've gotten into a lot of trouble if it had worked."

"Yeah, and I 'spect Lucius Malfoy would've come marchin' up ter school if yeh'd cursed his son," Hagrid agreed. "Least yer not in trouble. Anyway, Harry," he added, looking at the dark-haired wizard. "Gotta bone to pick with you. I've heard you've bin givin' out signed photos. How come I haven't got one?"

Harry was furious. "I have _not_ been giving out signed photos. If Lockhart's still spreading that around—" He stopped when Hagrid started laughing.

"I'm on'y jokin'," he assured Harry, patting him on the back, sending him crashing into the table. "I knew yeh hadn't really. I told Lockhart yeh didn' need the. Yer more famous than he is without even tryin'." Gwyn laughed as Harry grinned at Hagrid.

"Bet he didn't like that."

"Don' think he did. An' then I told him I'd never read one o' his books an' he decided to go."

Ron was feeling better at this time and they went outside so Hagrid showed them the enormous pumpkins that he'd been growing, with some illegal magical help. Hagrid had been expelled during his third year, though none of them were aware of the circumstances surrounding his expulsion. He refused to elaborate whenever the subject came up.

When lunchtime came, they headed back up to the castle, where they met with Professor McGonagall, who informed Harry and Ron that their detentions would take place later that evening for the car flying incident. Ron was going to be polishing the silver in the trophy room while Harry was stuck with Lockhart and his fan mail.

Gwyn was still awake that night, finishing a Potions essay in the common room when Harry returned, his expression worried and perturbed as he took a seat next to her. "Are you okay?" she asked, setting aside her essay so the ink could dry. "What happened?"

Harry began to explain that he'd heard a voice while in Lockhart's office, a voice that Lockhart hadn't heard. "It kept saying that it wanted to kill somebody . . ."

"Who was it, though? Or rather, what? Even someone invisible would've had to open the door to get into the room."

"I know," Harry agreed. "I don't get it either."


	8. The First Attack

**Gwyn Swann and the Chamber of Secrets**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Eight: The First Attack

Now that she was back in school, summer seemed to pass by much more quickly and soon autumn took its place, the cool air sweeping through the grounds. With the threat of something alarming about to happen at Hogwarts, Gwyn knew that something was going to happen and soon. It was only a question of when.

Halloween soon arrived and the Halloween feast was to be a feast to remember, but Gwyn and her friends were not going to be going this year, albeit the grand feast that they'd heard it was going to be. Instead, they were going to Nearly Headless Nick's deathday party. Harry, after Nick had rescued him from Filch, had promised him that he would attend and how many times was Gwyn going to get a chance to miss an event like this?

As they walked into the dungeons, the black candles leading to the party cast a bright blue glow across the corridors and with every step that they took, the temperature seemed to drop. Gwyn could see her breath as they stepped into the dungeons, hearing what sounded like fingernails across a chalkboard. She winced at the sound.

"Is that supposed to be music?" Ron whispered to them. Gwyn shrugged as they were met by Nick at the doorway.

"My dear friends," he said in a mournful tone. "Welcome, welcome . . . so pleased you could come."

"Thank you, Sir Nicholas," Gwyn said, smiling at him as they were bowed inside, where hundreds upon hundreds of pearly white ghosts were crowded in the room. Many of them were on the dance floor, though why anybody would want to dance to the screech that was piercing Gwyn's ears was beyond her. But then again, she wasn't a ghost.

She recognised quite a few of them, being Hogwarts ghost. There was the Fat Friar, ghost of Hufflepuff House, talking with a knight with, Gwyn winced as she looked closer, an arrow in his head. The Bloody Baron, Slytherin House ghost, was there as well. The Grey Lady, a tall ghost in a floor length cloak, was the ghost of Ravenclaw House. There were several others that Gwyn knew by sight, but not by name.

"Shall we take a look around?" Harry asked, already shivering. Gwyn nodded as she pulled her own cloak tighter around her, trying to warm up her hands underneath them. It didn't help much, she thought miserably as they walked through the party, careful not to run into anyone.

"Oh, no," Hermione said suddenly, stopping them. "Turn around, turn back," she pleaded. "I don't want to talk to Moaning Myrtle—"

Gwyn glanced ahead of them and saw the ghost of a young girl that had haunted the first-floor girls' bathroom. She had only seen her a few times before she had decided to avoid that bathroom at all costs. Myrtle was always in there, sobbing and wailing . . . it was awful, having to listen to her.

"Who?" Harry asked as they turned around.

"She haunts one of the toilets in the girls' bathroom on the first floor," Hermione explained.

"She haunts a _toilet_?"

"Yeah, but it's been out-of-order since the beginning of the year," Gwyn told the boys, who looked torn between bewilderment and amusement. "She keeps having temper tantrums and flooding the place. Anyway, I avoided that bathroom most of the time anyway . . ."

Ron wasn't paying attention to her any longer. "Look, food!" he said eagerly, bouncing over to a long table, covered with food. Gwyn wrinkled her nose as they got closer, the stench of rotten food coming into her nostrils as they reached the table. A cake in the middle of the table was carved in the shape of a tombstone with icing written on it.

SIR NICHOLAS DE MIMSY-PORPINGTON

DIED 31ST OCTOBER, 1492

"I don't think ghosts are prepared for living people at their parties," Gwyn whispered, keeping her voice down so the ghosts wouldn't hear her. She didn't want to hurt any of their feelings, after all. Not since Nick had invited them and everything . . .

"They probably let it rot to give it a stronger flavour," Hermione said reasonably as they moved away from the table. However, the nausea didn't leave from Gwyn's stomach when they moved away.

"You okay?" Harry asked her, seeing her slightly green face. Gwyn nodded as they moved away from the ruined food.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she assured him, trying to get her stomach to calm. "A bit nauseous is all . . ."

"Nibbles?" a familiar voice asked and they looked around to see Peeves, the school poltergeist, behind them. Unlike the ghosts, Peeves wore a bright orange party had, revolving bow tie, and a wicked grin on his face. Gwyn shook her head, waving the peanuts away that he offered her. They weren't any fresher than the food that was on the table. "Heard you talking about poor Myrtle," he commented, the wicked grin on his face becoming even more pronounced. "Rude you was about Poor Myrtle." His eyes were alight with delight as he roared across the dance floor. "OY! MYRTLE!"

"Oh, no, Peeves, don't tell her what I said, she'll be really upset," Hermione whispered frantically as Myrtle glided over to them. Gwyn forced a smile on her face as she looked at the ghost.

"Hello, Myrtle," Gwyn said, stepping on Hermione's foot to let her know that Myrtle had arrived.

"How are you?" Hermione said, forcing a cheerful tone into her voice. "It's so nice to see you out of the toilet."

"Miss Granger was just talking about you—" Peeves said, the wicked grin seemingly plastered onto his face as Myrtle sniffed towards Hermione, as if sensing that her greeting was less than sincere.

"I was just telling everyone how nice you look tonight," Hermione told her, still in that faux voice while she glared at Peeves. If it weren't for the fact that he was already dead, Gwyn was sure that Peeves would've been dead several times over.

Myrtle's see-through eyes welt up with silver tears. "You're making fun of me," she accused, her voice trembling slightly.

"No, honestly, didn't I just say how nice Myrtle was looking?" Hermione asked, whirling around to Gwyn, Harry, and Ron for support.

"Oh, yeah—"

"She did—"

"Don't lie to me," Myrtle retorted, now crying fully. Peeves was looking happily over her shoulder at the havoc that he'd caused. "Do you think I don't know what people call me behind my back? Fat Myrtle! Ugly Myrtle! Miserable, moaning, moping Myrtle!"

"You've forgotten pimply," Peeves reminded her, causing Myrtle to burst into full-fledged tears and flee from the dungeon. Peeves chased after her, pelting her with the moldy peanuts.

"That went well," Gwyn observed, tugging on a strand of her blonde hair as she turned and found Nick heading towards them.

"Enjoying yourselves?"

"Oh, yes," all four of them lied, but fortunately, Nick was in too good of a mood to detect the falsehood.

"Not a bad turnout," Nick said happily, looking around at the crowded room proudly. "The Wailing Widow came all the way up from Kent. . . . It's nearly time for my speech, I'd better go warn the orchestra . . ."

However, there was no need to stop the orchestra from playing; they had already stopped when a hunting horn sounded. Nick's enthralled expression turned gloomy as a dozen ghost horses came galloping in, accompanied by headless riders.

"Here we go," Nick mumbled as the assembly started clapping loudly, much to his displeasure. One of the ghosts climbed down, lifting his head over the crowd to see before walking over to Nick, replacing his head back onto his head.

"Nick! How are you? Head still hanging in there?"

"Welcome, Patrick," Nick said flatly.

Patrick smirked as he caught sight of the group standing nearby and gave a jump of surprise, causing his head to tumble off again. "Live 'uns!" he exclaimed as the crowd roared with laughter. Nick's mood didn't improve by this at all, however.

"Very amusing."

"Don't mind Nick!" Patrick's head called from the floor. "Still upset we won't let him join the Hunt! But I mean to say—look at the fellow—"

"I think Nick's very frightening and—" Harry began, but this caused Patrick to laugh harder from the floor.

"Ha! Bet he asked you to say that!"

"Not really," Gwyn said, trying to save some of Nick's pride. "He gave me quite a fright the first time I ever saw him. Scared me out of my wits." She wasn't particularly lying about this; when Nick had first pulled his head off and she saw the piece of skin that was holding his head on, she had almost jumped out of her seat at the welcoming feast on her first day at Hogwarts.

Patrick laughed again. "I'm sure he did, missy . . ."

"If I could have everyone's attention, it's time for my speech!" Nick said loudly as he waltzed over to the podium and glided up on top of it, throwing him into an icy blue spotlight. The crowd quieted down. "My late lords, ladies, and gentlemen, it is my great sorrow . . ."

Gwyn felt very sorry for Nick as Patrick pretty much wrecked the rest of his speech by starting a game of head hockey and after several attempts to restart the speech, he finally gave up.

By this time, all four of them were shivering and hungry. Gwyn turned to the others. "You want to go up to the Great Hall and see if there's any food left?"

Harry nodded. There wasn't much point in staying any longer. "Let's go," he agreed and they headed out of the dungeons. They were just heading up the corridor they'd entered at when Gwyn felt something nearby . . . sensed a presence that she'd never felt before . . .

Whatever it was, Harry must've sensed something as well, because he whirled around, looking up and down the passageway as Gwyn stopped as well, her blue eyes searching the dimly lit corridor.

"Hey, what are you two—?"

"It's that voice again—shut up for a minute—" Harry was listening intently and Gwyn closed her eyes, trying to focus on what she felt, but she only sensed something, she couldn't hear anything. "Listen!"

Whatever he was hearing, it was moving, because Gwyn sensed the presence leaving, disappearing to another place, but she still didn't see anything . . . was that presence an invisible force after all? Or was it something else entirely?

"This way!" Harry ordered, leaving them up to the entrance hall and to the floor above, listening intently. Gwyn grabbed his arm as she sensed the presence move and led them up the steps. "You hear it, too?"

"No." Gwyn shook her head and his face fell in desperation. "But I can sense something there . . ."

"What are you two on about?" Ron demanded, as he wiped a sheet of sweat off of his face. "I couldn't hear anything . . ."

Before either Gwyn or Harry could answer him, Hermione gave a sharp, sudden gasp and pointed down the corridor behind them. "Look!" she whispered in a horrified voice.

Gwyn spun around and saw that there was something red and shining behind them, on the wall just ahead. Slowly, she walked towards it, her friends right behind her as they approached the wall. On the wall, there were foot-high words that had been painted on, shimmering in the lights.

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN

OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE

"It's written in blood," Gwyn whispered, feeling sicker than she had all evening. Whoever had done this . . . it was their idea of a sick, sick joke . . . and what on earth was the Chamber of Secrets?

"What's that hanging underneath?" Ron asked, his voice shaking. Harry moved towards it and almost slipped on some water that was on the floor. Gwyn and Ron grabbed him and steadied him as they all saw what it was underneath.

"Mrs. Norris," Gwyn whispered. It was the caretaker, Mr. Filch's, cat, hanging by her tail from the torch bracket. Frozen and stiff as a board, the eyes that seemed to alert Filch to the slightest misconduct were wide and blank, not seeing anything.

"Let's get out of here," Ron told them. Gwyn couldn't move; all she could do was stare at Mrs. Norris, though Ron's idea was a sound one. This was the last place that they needed to be at.

"Shouldn't we try and help—" Harry began.

"Trust me," Ron told him fiercely as he pushed Harry towards the corridor and Hermione grabbed Gwyn. "We don't want to be found here."

Unfortunately, they were a little late. The feast had just ended and Gwyn found hundreds of students approach them and the chatter that had been lifting up towards them was silenced.

And then a voice broke the silence. "Enemies of the Heir, beware! You'll be next, Mudbloods!"


	9. Legend of the Chamber

**Gwyn Swann and the Chamber of Secrets**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Nine: Legend of the Chamber

Draco Malfoy had pushed his way through the crowd and his grey eyes were practically dancing with delight at the sight of Mrs. Norris hanging immobile on the torch. Gwyn could barely even breathe as every single person's attention was drawn to the four students standing at the scene of the crime. This definitely didn't look in their favour . . .

"What's going on here? What's going on?" Filch, the caretaker, had pushed his way through the crowd, doubtlessly attracted by Malfoy's shout, but when he saw his cat, he stumbled back. "My cat! My cat! What's happened to Mrs. Norris?" When no one answered, his gaze fell on Harry, the prime suspect at the moment. "You! _You!_ You've murdered my cat! You've killed her! I'll kill you! I'll—"

"Argus!" Gwyn was half-relieved when Dumbledore came onto the scene, stopping when he saw what had happened. A number of other teachers had followed his tracks, gasping when they saw what had occurred.

Taking charge, Dumbledore swept past them and detached Mrs. Norris from the torch. "Come with me, Argus," he told Filch. His light blue eyes turned towards the accused. "You, too, Mr. Potter, Miss Swann, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger."

"My office is nearest, Headmaster—just upstairs," Lockhart offered. "Please, feel free—"

"Thank you, Gilderoy," Dumbledore cut him off before looking towards the still-watching students. "Everyone else, please return to their dormitories at once." The students whispered to one another as they broke apart, heading for their own separate houses.

Gwyn felt numb as she trailed behind Harry and into Lockhart's office, wondering how on earth they were going to get out of this mess. Harry and Ron were in the worst of it; Dumbledore had no choice but to expel them if he believed they were responsible for this.

But Dumbledore wasn't looking at them, rather inspecting Mrs. Norris as he laid her onto the desk, gently examining her while Lockhart hovered nearby, making suggestions as to what had killed her. Gwyn watched Mrs. Norris's immobile form, suddenly wondering if the voice that Harry had heard and the presence she'd felt wasn't connected to this.

And since when had coincidences ever occurred around Hogwarts? It would be remarkable if the two weren't entwined.

Glancing over at Filch, Gwyn saw that his shoulders were shaking with sobs that made her feel sorry for him. Even though he was a foul, evil madman, it seemed that he did have a heart, because only someone with a heart could have been that grieved over the apparent death of someone close to them.

_If_ she even was dead, which Gwyn wasn't entirely sure that she was . . . she didn't look dead.

Dumbledore confirmed her suspicions a moment later when he stood up, looking at the caretaker. "She's not dead, Argus," he said.

"Not dead?" Filch echoed, raising his head to look at his beloved cat. "But . . . but why's she all—all stiff and frozen?"

"She has been Petrified," Dumbledore explained, though this did nothing to reassure the other teachers in the room, who exchanged glances as the headmaster proclaimed this. Gwyn felt an odd, cold chill surge through her at those words. "But how, I cannot say . . ."

"Ask him!" Filch pointed directly towards Harry, who blanched as the attention was focused on him once again.

"No second year could have done this," Dumbledore said in a tone that made no room for argument. Gwyn let out a small breath of relief . . . at least Dumbledore didn't believe that they were involved. "It would take Dark Magic of the most advanced—"

"He did it, he did it!" Filch seemed beyond reason as he shrieked at the top of his lungs. "You saw what he wrote on the wall! He found—in my office—he knows I'm a—I'm a—" Filch struggled to form the words that were on the tip of his tongue. "He knows that I'm a Squib!" he finally forced out and Gwyn's eyebrows narrowed in bewilderment; what on earth was a Squib?

Harry apparently had no idea either, because he finally came to his own defence. "I never _touched_ Mrs. Norris! And I don't even know what a Squib _is_!"

"Rubbish! He saw my Kwikspell letter!"

"If I might speak, Headmaster," Snape commented as he stepped from the shadows. "Potter and his friends simply might have been in the wrong place at the wrong time." Gwyn stared incredulously at Snape, then at her friends, all of whom wore identical expressions of disbelief; since when did Snape ever come to Harry's defence? "But we do have a set of suspicious circumstances here. Why was he in the upstairs corridor at all? Why wasn't he at the Halloween feast?"

That was an easy enough explanation and all four of them launched into explanations, telling the teachers that they were at the deathday party. " . . . there were hundreds of ghosts," Hermione finished up. "They can tell you that we were there—"

"But why not join the feast afterward?" Snape inquired. "Why go up to that corridor?"

Now it became necessary to lie; Gwyn didn't thing that it was the best idea to be telling them that Harry had been hearing voices that nobody else could hear and that she'd sensed whatever Harry had heard. Besides Dumbledore, Gwyn and her friends were the only ones who knew that she possessed Seeing powers and Gwyn preferred to keep it that way. She hated attention drawn to herself. Which was amusing, considering how much she seemed to get drawn into it since coming to Hogwarts.

"Because—because—" Harry began, looking desperate. "Because we were tired and wanted to go to bed." Even to Gwyn, the lie sounded hollow and Snape was smiling triumphantly.

"Without any supper? I didn't think that ghosts provided food fit for living people at their parties . . ."

"We weren't hungry," Ron said just as his stomach gave a particularly huge rumble. Gwyn couldn't help rolling her eyes at the timing.

"I suggest, Headmaster, that Potter is not being entirely truthful," Snape said, his dark eyes glittering dangerously. "It might be a good idea if he were deprived of certain privileges until he is ready to tell us the whole story. I personally feel that he should be taken off the Gryffindor Quidditch team until he is ready to be honest."

"Really, Severus," McGonagall said sharply, who was thinking along the same lines as Gwyn. Snape's opinion on the punishment didn't have anything to do with Harry being dishonest. "I see no reason to stop the boy playing Quidditch. This cat wasn't hit over the head with a broomstick. There is no evidence at all that Potter has done anything wrong."

Dumbledore was silent for a moment as he studied Harry carefully and then nodded. "Innocent until proven guilty, Severus," he said in a tone that no one could argue with.

"My cat has been Petrified!" Filch shouted. "I want to see some punishment!"

"We will be able to cure her, Argus," Dumbledore assured him. "I believe that Professor Sprout has recently managed to procure some Mandrakes. As soon as they have reached their full size, I will have a potion made that will revive Mrs. Norris." He turned towards Harry, Gwyn, Ron, and Hermione. "You may go," he told them.

They made no motion to stop as they left the office and it was only when they were a floor above Lockhart's office that they headed into an empty classroom and closed the door behind them.

Harry turned towards them, his expression worried. "Do you think I should have told them about the voice I heard?"

"No," Ron answered immediately. "Hearing voices no one else can hear isn't a good sign, even in the wizarding world."

"You do believe, don't you?" Harry sought to clarify.

"Of course I do," Ron said quickly.

"Besides, between you hearing something and Gwyn sensing something at the same time, it couldn't simply be coincidence," Hermione said reasonably. "I mean, her instincts are usually right on target. Remember last year, when we were taking Norbert to the Astronomy Tower?" Gwyn nodded; it had been before she found out she was a seer. She had warned Harry and Hermione, however unintentionally, not to forget Harry's dad's Invisibility Cloak in the Tower. Had they forgotten, they would've been caught by Filch for being out after hours.

"But you have to admit that it's weird," Ron added, looking between Harry and Gwyn.

"I know it's weird," Harry admitted, sitting down. "The whole thing's weird. What was that writing on the wall about? 'The Chamber Has Been Opened'. . . . What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know, it rings a sort of bell," Ron said slowly "I think someone told me a story about a secret chamber at Hogwarts . . . it might have been Bill . . ."

"What exactly is a Squib, anyway?" Gwyn asked, looking at Ron in particular. Being raised a wizard, he was the person to ask.

Ron actually laughed at the question. "It's not funny really, but as it's Filch," he said between laughs. "A Squib is someone who was born into a wizarding family, but hasn't got any powers of their own. Kind of the opposite of Muggle-borns wizards, except Squibs are really unusual. If Filch's trying to learn magic from a Kwikspell course, I reckon he must be a Squib. It would explain a lot. Like why he hates students so much. He's bitter."

Hermione glanced towards the door as the midnight bell rang. "We'd better go upstairs," she told them. "Before we're caught after hours."

"Or Snape tries to frame us for something else," Harry added.

--

Several weeks had passed since the attack and Gwyn was sitting in the library with Ron, re-reading her History of Magic essay while he was trying desperately to get the proper length for the essay before the class started and they had to turn them in. "Don't even think about it, Ron," Gwyn warned without even looking up, already knowing he was edging towards Hermione's bag, which lay next to her.

"You seers are so annoying," Ron sighed as he pushed himself back into his seat and began writing again as Harry joined them, setting his bag onto the table they were sitting at. "I don't believe it, I'm still eight inches short. Hermione's done four feet seven inches and her writing's tiny."

"Where is she?" Harry inquired as he measured his own essay and Ron pointed towards the stacks of books.

"Somewhere over there, looking for another book," Ron answered as he scribbled some more writing onto his essay, trying to make his writing as large as humanly possible. "I think she's trying to read the entire library before Christmas."

"No, she's not," Gwyn answered, glancing up at them at last. Hermione had been in the library for several weeks now, desperately trying to find anything about the Chamber of Secrets that had been written on the wall. "She's trying to find something." She glanced at Harry and saw his perturbed expression. "Hey, what's wrong?" she asked, worried. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, it's just . . . do you remember Justin Finch-Fletchley?" Harry asked and she nodded. The Hufflepuff was in their year and Muggle-born, if she remembered correctly. "I just saw him in the hallway and he walked away from me the moment he saw me . . ."

"Don't know why you care," Ron said, who was barely paying attention to what Harry was saying as he continued to write on his essay. "I thought he was a bit of an idiot. All of that junk about Lockhart being so great . . ." He glanced up as Hermione came towards the table, looking annoyed.

"_All_ of the copies of _Hogwarts, A History_ have been taken out," she grumbled as she sat down with them. "And there's a two-week waiting list. I _wish_ I hadn't left my copy at home, but I couldn't fit it in my trunk with all the Lockhart books."

"What do you want with it?" Harry wanted to know.

"The same reason everyone else wants it," Hermione explained. "To read up on the legend of the Chamber of Secrets."

Gwyn glanced up at her words. Since the attack, she had wondered about the Chamber, what it was.

Harry echoed her thoughts as he asked Hermione, "What's that?"

"That's just it, I can't remember. And I can't find the story anywhere else." Hermione shook her head.

"Hermione, let me read your composition," Ron requested, glancing towards the time. History of Magic was only ten minutes away.

Almost instantly, Hermione's irritation disappeared and severity took its place. "No, I won't. You've had ten days to finish it—"

"I only need another two inches, come on," Ron pleaded before turning to Gwyn desperately. "Come on, Gwyn, you know that you feel sorry for me, just let me read yours."

Gwyn cocked an eyebrow. "Well, that's a first. Somebody actually wants to copy off _my_ History of Magic homework."

Harry laughed as the bell rang and they all headed towards History of Magic, Ron and Hermione bickering the entire way. Gwyn took her seat, preparing to be asleep within minutes as Professor Binns, the sole ghost teacher, droned on and on about the International Warlock Convention of 1289 when Hermione's hand suddenly shot up into the air.

Professor Binns looked startled and amazed as he called on her. "Miss—er—"

"Granger, Professor," Hermione said clearly. "And I was wondering if you could tell us anything about the Chamber of Secrets."

Her words were all it took for the entire class to wake up and looking at Professor Binns, awaiting the words, but he only blinked. "My subject is History of Magic, Miss Granger. I deal with facts, not myths and legends." He cleared his throat as he returned to lecturing. "In September of that year, a subcommittee of Sardinian sorcerers—" Professor Binns stopped talking as Hermione raised her hand again. "Miss Grant?"

"Please, sir, don't legends always shave a basis in fact?"

Gwyn looked at the ghost teacher, curious about the Chamber, despite the warning bells that were flaring up in the pit of her stomach. If she had followed those instincts not to intervene last year, then Voldemort would most likely have risen and all of them would be dead or worse.

"Well, yes, one could argue that, I suppose." He hesitated, looking at Hermione for a minute. "However, the legend of which you speak is such a _sensational_, even _ludicrous _tale—" However, he seemed to realise that everyone was paying such attention to him that he had no choice but to tell them. "Oh, very well . . . let me see . . . the Chamber of Secrets . . .

"You all know, of course, that Hogwarts was founded over a thousand years ago by the greatest witches and wizards of the age. The four school Houses are named after them: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. They built this castle together, far from prying Muggle eyes, for it was an age when magic was feared by common people and witches and wizards suffered much persecution.

"For a few years, the founders worked in harmony together, seeking out youngsters who showed signs of magic and bringing them to the castle to be educated. But then disagreements sprang up between them. A rift began to grow between Slytherin and the others. Slytherin wished to be more _selective _about the students admitted to Hogwarts. He believed that magical learning should be kept within all-magic families. He disliked taking students of Muggle parentage, believing them to be untrustworthy. After awhile, there was a serious argument on the subject between Slytherin and Gryffindor and Slytherin left the school.

"Reliable historical sources tell us this much, but there honest facts have been obscured by the fanciful legend of the Chamber of Secrets. The story goes that Slytherin had built a hidden chamber in the castle, of which the other founders knew nothing.

"Slytherin, according to the legend, sealed the Chamber of Secrets so that none would be able to open it until his own true heir arrived at the school. The heir alone would be able to unseal the Chamber of Secrets, unleash the horror within and use it to purge the school of all those who were unworthy to study magic."

Binns looked annoyed at the show of attention as the story came to a close. "The whole thing is arrant nonsense, of course," he said firmly. "Naturally, the school has been searched for evidence of such a chamber, many times, by the most learned witches and wizards. It does not exist. A tale told to frighten the gullible."

Hermione raised her hand again. "Sir—what exactly do you mean by the 'horror within' the Chamber?"

"That is believed to be some sort of monster, which the Heir of Slytherin alone can control," Binns answered and noticed the class's nervous glances towards each other. "I tell you, the thing does not exist. There is no chamber and no monster. There is not a shred of evidence that Slytherin ever built so much as a secret broom cupboard! We will return, if you please, to solid, believable, verifiable fact!"

--

After learning the history of the Chamber of Secrets, Gwyn and her friends headed down to the scene of the crime, despite that it probably wasn't the best place for them to be seen. There were scorch marks in a few places and they found spiders trying desperately to get away from the school, fighting to get through the crack in the wall first.

Moaning Myrtle's toilet was right next to the crime scene, so they went there to see if she had seen anything, but as usual, the slightest thing set her off and she went howling into the toilet, vanishing from sight. That was when Percy found them coming out of the bathroom and told them off, forcing them to go up to the common room.

While they were sitting at the table, doing their Charms homework, Hermione suddenly closed her book, looking thoughtful.

"Who could it be, though?" she asked suddenly. Gwyn paused in a sentence as she glanced at the bushy haired witch. Hermione was talking as though they'd been having the conversation all night. "Who would want to frighten all the Muggle-borns and Squibs out of Hogwarts?"

"Let's think here," Ron said mockingly, "who do we know who thinks that all Muggle-borns are scum?"

Gwyn frowned as she finished the sentence that she was writing and closed her book, turning towards the conversation. Already, she knew exactly who Ron was talking about. "If you're talking about Malfoy . . ." she began.

"Of course I am!" Ron exclaimed, looking at her as though she'd grown two heads. "You heard him, Gwyn—_'You'll be next, Mudbloods!'_—come on, you've only got to look at his foul rat face to know that it's him—"

"Malfoy, the Heir of Slytherin?" Hermione said sceptically.

"Maybe Ron's right, you two," Harry interceded, shutting his books as well. "I mean, look at his family. The whole lot of them have been in Slytherin for centuries; he's always boasting about it. They could easily be Slytherin's descendants. His father's definitely evil enough."

"They could have had the key to the Chamber of Secrets for centuries!" Ron said. "Handing it down, father to son. . . ."

Hermione hesitated, casting a look at Gwyn, who was starting to think that there was some reason to their ingenuity. "Well . . . I suppose that it's possible . . ."

"But how do we prove it?" Harry wondered.

"Crabbe and Goyle must know!" Ron said excitedly. "Maybe we could trick them into telling!"

Gwyn snorted at the thought, but shook her head, shooting down Ron's idea in a heartbeat. "Even _they_ aren't that thick," she replied, sitting back in her seat as she tried to think of anything that could possibly help. "But wasn't there a potion Snape mentioned a couple weeks ago in class, Hermione? I can't remember the name of it, but it turned people into someone else . . ."

"The Polyjuice Potion!" Hermione exclaimed, looking delighted. "That's a great idea! Of course, it would be difficult. And dangerous, very dangerous. Not to mention, we'd be breaking about fifty school rules . . ."

"What exactly does this Polyjuice stuff do?" Harry asked cautiously as Ron looked panicked at the thought of turning into a Slytherin.

"Well, if you two would pay attention to Snape, then you would know," Hermione said, irritation flashing in her voice. "It transforms you into someone else. We could changed into three Slytherins and ask Malfoy some questions without him even knowing it was us. He's probably boasting about it in the Slytherin common room right now, if only we could hear him."

"This Polyjuice stuff sounds a bit dodgy to me," Ron said. "What if were stuck looking like three of the Slytherins forever?"

"It wears off after awhile," Hermione said dismissively. "It's getting the recipe that's going to be difficult. The book that it's in is called _Moste Potente Potions_ and it's only in the Restricted Section of the library."

"And I know exactly the right teacher that we can get to sign the note," Gwyn said with a broad smile. Harry looked at her and saw the smile on her face, the mischievous twinkle in her blue eyes.

"Oh, you're not thinking of . . ." he said, starting to smile.

"Oh, yes I am," she agreed.


	10. A Dangerous Match

**Gwyn Swann and the Chamber of Secrets**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Ten: A Dangerous Match

It was far easier to get the note signed by Lockhart than any of them expected it to be. Of course, Hermione's flattery seemed to help a little bit, but even despite that, Gwyn thought it was better to get out of there before he sensed they were up to something. Harry was incredulous that they managed to get the note sign as they headed off to the library, where the librarian, Madam Pince, was shelving books.

"_Moste Potente Potions_?" she echoed when they told her which book they were after. She attempted to grab the note from Hermione, but Hermione wasn't letting go of the Lockhart's signature, holding on to it as though her life depended on it.

"I was wondering if I could keep it," she requested, her voice breathless and her brown eyes lit. Ron rolled his eyes as he grabbed it from Hermione and thrust it at the librarian.

"Don't worry, we'll get you another one," Ron said at Hermione's stricken expression. "Lockhart will sign anything if it stands still long enough."

"Isn't that the truth?" Gwyn sighed as Madam Pince inspected the note before heading off to the Restricted Section to retrieve the book. Hermione put it into her bag before heading off to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom to find the potion. The bathroom was the last place anyone would be at, so they were guaranteed some privacy.

"Oh, jeez," Gwyn muttered as she peered over Hermione's shoulder at some of the illustrations. "It's no wonder that this book was in the Restricted Section." She winced at the picture of the wizard who had turned himself inside out as Hermione turned another page, finally finding the page that she was looking for.

"Here is it," she said, delighted. Gwyn frowned down at the potion; she had never seen a more complicated potion, in all of the potions books that she'd read while Madeline was out of the house. She had snuck into her guardian's room when she was out and read some of the potions books that she'd had.

"This is the most complicated potion I've ever seen," Hermione commented, as though she'd read Gwyn's thoughts. "Lacewing flies, leeches, fluxweed, and knotgrass." Her finger trailed down the page. "Those are easy enough, they're in the student store-cupboard, we can just help ourselves . . . but I don't know how we're going to get powdered horn of a bicorn and shredded skin of a boomslang. And of course, we're going to need a bit of whoever we want to change into—"

"Excuse me?" Ron interrupted her, his face stricken. "What do you mean, a bit of whoever we're changing into? I'm not drinking anything that has Crabbe's toenails in it!"

Hermione ignored him as she continued, "We don't have to worry about that yet, though, because we add those bits last. . . ."

"We should at least plan on who we're changing into," Gwyn told her. "I don't know if there are any girls close enough to Malfoy besides Pansy." Inwardly, she shuddered at the thought of turning into the pug-faced Slytherin, but if it meant stopping the Heir of Slytherin, then she'd do it.

"Do you realise how much we're going to have to steal, Hermione?" Harry asked her. "Shredded skin of a boomslang, that's definitely not in the students' cupboards. What are we going to do, break into Snape's private stores? I don't know if this is a good idea . . ."

Gwyn jumped as Hermione slammed the book shut, her eyes dangerous and her cheeks flushed with anger as she turned towards them. "If you three are going to chicken out, fine," she snapped.

"Did I say anything?" Gwyn wondered.

Hermione ignored her. "_I_ don't want to break rules, you know. _I _think threatening Muggle-borns is far worse than brewing u pa difficult potion. But if you don't want to find out if it's Malfoy, I'll go straight to Madam Pince now and turn the book back in—"

Looking at Harry and Ron incredulously, Gwyn inquired, "Are we sure that this is Hermione Granger? It looks like Hermione and talks like Hermione, but it can't be her, because the Hermione Granger that we know and love would never try and convince us to break rules . . . it's supposed to be the other way around, right?"

Both boys laughed and Hermione's eyes became more dangerous, but the sides of her mouth twitched, revealing that she was trying to fight a smile. "We're gonna do it, Hermione," Gwyn told her, leaning against the wall.

"Just not toenails, okay?" Ron requested.

"It doesn't have to be toenails, Ron," Gwyn assured him. "Just something of Crabbe or Goyle's, like blood or hair or spit or something." She grinned at the expression on Ron's face as Harry looked at Hermione.

"How long will it take to make?"

Hermione consulted the book. "Well, since the fluxweed has to be picked at the full moon and the lacewings have got to be stewed for twenty-one days . . . I'd say that it would be ready in about a month, providing that we're able to get all of the ingredients."

"A month!" Harry echoed in dismay.

"Malfoy could have attacked half the Muggle-borns in the school by then!" Ron added. Hermione's eyes went dangerous again. "But it's the best plan that we've got, so full steam ahead, I say."

Gwyn shook her head as Hermione went to check outside. "I think I preferred it when we were trying to track down Flamel last year," she commented to the boys.

"No kidding," Harry sighed. "At least then we knew what we were up against."

"Yeah, getting our heads chopped off by that three-headed dog of Hagrid's," Ron said dryly. "It'll be a lot less hassle if you can just knock Malfoy off his broom tomorrow."

--

It was early on Saturday when Gwyn woke up, once again from dreams of the man in the skull mask, and went downstairs to the empty common room. Tabby was lying curled up on one of the chairs, but he meowed happily as he jumped off to greet his mistress. Gwyn smiled as she picked up her cat, stroking him tenderly as she glanced out the window.

The weather was muggy and thunder was approaching on the horizon; definitely not the best Quidditch playing weather. She sighed as she released Tabby and headed down to the Great Hall, where she found Harry with the rest of the Gryffindor team. None of them looked exactly determined and eager to play, doubtlessly thinking about the excellent brooms that Slytherin now possessed. Gwyn sighed as she walked towards her best friend, sitting down beside him.

"Ready to play?" she asked him and he gave her a look. "Okay, I think you looked less worried _last_ year before your first game."

"Yeah, well, last year I didn't have to worry about Slytherin's Nimbus 2001's," Harry said darkly. She stared at his sulky mood and crossed her arms, giving him a long look.

"With that kind of attitude, you're not going to last five minutes out there," she told him. Harry glanced at her, surprised. "You listen to me, Harry Potter, you are twice the player that Malfoy is. There's a reason why you're the youngest Quidditch player in a century. So what if Slytherin has better brooms? You're the better player. All of you," she added, looking towards the Gryffindor team. "Sulking isn't going to get you anywhere. You're Gryffindors. Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgement that some things are more important than fear." She looked at each of the Gryffindor team in turn, before looking back at Harry. "Just play like I've seen you at practices. Slytherin hasn't got a chance."

"Hey, Oliver, can she do the pep talks instead of you this year?" Fred asked, looking towards Wood, who actually grinned at Gwyn. "I like her speeches a whole lot better."

Gwyn chuckled as she poured herself some porridge. "Come on, Harry, eat up," she instructed, pouring him a bowl too and pushing it towards him. "Victories aren't achieved with an empty stomach."

Harry smiled at her, the grateful look evident on his face. "Thanks, Gwyn," he told her gratefully as he ate up. Gwyn ate her own porridge as Ron and Hermione joined them, along with the rest of the school as it started getting closer and closer to eleven, when the match was supposed to begin.

Gwyn said goodbye to Harry as he went into the locker rooms with the rest of the team for Wood's pre-match pep talk before she, Ron, and Hermione headed into the stands, managing to get seats in the Gryffindor box. She saw Ginny in the front seat and frowned in worry for her; Ginny had been looking really pale lately and acting strangely, but Gwyn had to admit that she didn't know Ginny well enough to know what was strange behaviour for her.

Still, she decided to keep a watch out for her; Ginny was her friend's little sister, after all.

Turning her attention to the match as Gryffindor and Slytherin came onto the field, Gwyn watched as they took to the air. Almost instantly, one of the Bludgers nearly knocked Harry off of his broom. Granted, that was their job, but it had happened almost too fast for it to be coincidence.

Besides that, it kept trying to attack Harry, as though it were attracted to him like a magnet. "What's going on with that Bludger?" Gwyn asked Ron, who shook his head in bewilderment. "They're not supposed to do that . . ."

"Someone's tampered with it, I think," Ron whispered, his eyes wide as Fred and George, the Gryffindor Beaters, were sticking so close to Harry that he couldn't even see where he was flying at. Slytherin was leading, sixty points to zero when George signalled to Wood for a time out.

"Are they going to ask for an inquiry?" Hermione asked anxiously. Gwyn shook her head as they moved back onto the field.

"Doesn't look like it . . ." She watched in worry as the Weasley twins were forced to leave Harry alone to deal with the Bludger. Harry was flying all over the place to avoid getting hit by the Bludger as rain began to fall down on top of them. Gwyn didn't even bother pulling her hood up; she was too worried about Harry to even notice the rainfall.

Malfoy, high in the air, said something to Harry, who stayed still for a second too long at Malfoy's remark. The Bludger hit him and even from where Gwyn sat, she could hear the bone break. "Harry!" Gwyn shouted, but he couldn't hear her or he wasn't paying attention.

He swerved out of the way and headed straight for Malfoy. For a split second, she thought that he was going to attack the blond Seeker, but then she caught the slight glimpse of gold near Malfoy—the Golden Snitch.

"What's he doing?" Ron demanded.

"The Snitch," Gwyn told him, pointing directly towards it as Malfoy staggered out of the way, flying away from Harry just as Harry lifting his good hand off of his broom and grasped the Snitch. Gwyn let out a sigh of relief as he flew towards the ground, but gasped as he hit the ground with enormous force.

"Let's go!" Gwyn ordered as she pushed her way through the crowd and headed towards the field, where Harry was lying surrounded by spectators, team-mates, and one certain professor that they most certainly didn't want around when he had a broken arm.

"Doesn't know what he's saying," Lockhart said loudly as Gwyn pushed her way through the crowd, squatting beside Harry.

"Are you all right?" she asked anxiously, looking at his pained face. Evidentially, it was a pretty stupid question. Clearly, he was _not_ all right.

"Don't worry about a thing, Miss Swann, I'll fix his arm straightaway," Lockhart assured her. Harry was struggling to sit up as she tried to help him up and would've succeeded if Lockhart hadn't forced him back down. "Lie back, Harry. It's a simple charm. I've used it countless times."

"Why can't I just go to the hospital wing?" Harry demanded.

"He should really, Professor," Wood offered. The Gryffindor captain was grinning happily at the capture that his Seeker had made, despite the injury. "Great capture, Harry, really spectacular, your best yet, I'd say—"

"Stand back," Lockhart told the crowd. Gwyn groaned, looking away; she couldn't watch this . . .

The gasp from the crowd told her that something had gone wrong. Gwyn hadn't needed her Seeing powers to know that something was going to happen as she slowly turned her head back and what she saw nearly made her breakfast resurface. Harry's arm looked like a thick, rubber glove.

"Ah, yes. . . . Well, that can sometimes happen," Lockhart said awkwardly. "But the point is, the bones are no longer broken. That's the thing to bear in mind. So, Harry, just toddle up to the hospital wing—escort him there, would you, Miss Swann, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger?—and Madam Pomfrey will be able to . . . tidy you up a bit."

Gwyn was ready to strangle Lockhart and might have if Harry hadn't needed help. She helped him to his feet and walked with him, assisting him in staying upright, as he was now slightly lopsided, with no bones in his arm any longer.

When they arrived at the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey wasn't at all pleased with the result.

"You should have come straight to me!" she scolded Harry as she held up what remained of his once-perfectly working arm. It was flopping all over the place. "I can mend bones in a second—but growing them back—" Harry looked at her desperately.

"You will be able to, won't you?" he asked.

"I'll be able to, certainly, but it will be painful," Madam Pomfrey said, her expression grim. She handed him a pair of pyjamas. "You're going to have to stay the night, Potter . . ."

"How can you stick up for Lockhart now, Hermione?" Ron asked as he helped Harry into his pyjamas while the girls stayed outside of the curtain. "If Harry had wanted de-boning, he would have asked."

"Anyone can make a mistake—"

Gwyn wasn't about to get into an argument over Lockhart; if Hermione wanted to be lovesick over an egoistic, self-absorbed wizard, that was her business. "Well, he shouldn't have just leaped into helping, especially since Harry wanted to come to the hospital wing in the first place," she said, rolling her eyes.

Hermione glared at her, but didn't retaliate. "But it doesn't hurt anymore, does it, Harry?"

"No," Harry replied. "But it doesn't do anything else either."

Gwyn came around the curtain when Ron pushed it back, Hermione right behind her. Madam Pomfrey walked towards them, carrying a large bottle labelled _Stele-Gro_.

"You're in for a rough night," the nurse told Harry, pouring some of the potion into a beaker and handing it him. "Re-growing bones is nasty business."

Apparently, so was taking the Stele-Gro. Gwyn helped him gulp down some water after he was finished taking it while Ron turned the topic to the Quidditch match. "That was some catch you made. Malfoy's face . . . he looked ready to kill."

"I want to know how he fixed that Bludger," Hermione said darkly.

"We can add that to the list of questions we'll ask him when we've taken the Polyjuice Potion," Harry said, leaning back against the pillows. Gwyn looked worriedly at him. "I hope it tastes better than this stuff . . ."

"Don't want to douse your hopes, but I sincerely doubt it," Gwyn said dryly. "Not with bits of Slytherins in it."

At that moment, the rest of the Gryffindor team came in. Fred and George had managed to swipe sweets and other goodies from the kitchens—she would have to ask them where the kitchens were one day—and were about to start a good party when Madam Pomfrey kicked them out. Gwyn was about to leave when she laid some of the remaining sweets on Harry's table, along with one of her extra Charms books. She hoped it would distract Harry from the pain that he was going to be in for much of the night.

When she reached her dormitory that night, she opened up her diary, noticing that every time that she wrote in it, more pages appeared for her to write in, but the diary itself never got any bigger. Madeline must've magicked it before she'd sent it to her last Christmas.

Opening it up, Gwyn dipped her quill into the inkwell before she began scribbling into the pages.

_The Heir of Slytherin has returned to Hogwarts and now the place that has turned into my home is no longer safe. _

_Because now . . . the past has returned. _


	11. Another Attack and Snakes

**Gwyn Swann and the Chamber of Secrets**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Eleven: Another Attack and Snakes

Worried about Harry, Gwyn had barely managed to get to sleep that night, but woke up in the middle of the night, sensing the same presence she'd felt the night Mrs. Norris had been attacked. Sitting up straight, Gwyn looked around the room, still sensing it as she climbed out of bed, looking around the room, but as before, there was no one there but the four other Gryffindor girls that she shared her dormitory with.

As the presence vanished, Gwyn sat down on her bed, pulling the blankets around her as she leaned against the pillows. There was no way that she was going to get back to sleep tonight, she decided, as anxious as she was. Pulling her schoolbag towards her, Gwyn picked out her Potions book and started to read up on the material that Snape had assigned them. It wasn't like she had anything better to do . . .

She must've fallen asleep at some point, because the next thing that she knew, Hermione was shaking her awake and Gwyn groaned slightly at the awkward position that she'd fallen asleep in, massaging her neck as she peered up at Hermione's anxious face.

"What's the matter?" she mumbled, though she said this very fast. Hermione didn't seem to have any trouble understanding her, however.

"It's Colin Creevey," she said softly, casting a quick glance towards the dormitory. "He's been attacked."

Almost instantly, all tiredness and weariness flew out of Gwyn as she sat up straight, looking at Hermione in shock. She had expected this since she'd sensed the presence the night before, but Colin Creevey . . . how could he have been attacked in the middle of the night? Unless he was out roaming the school on his own . . .

"We're going to go start on the potion," Hermione said in an undertone, in case any of their dorm-mates were still around and listening to them. "I think it's better if we get started on it as soon as we can."

"Good idea," Gwyn agreed, getting up. "You and Ron go on ahead, I'll go and meet Harry, see if he's okay. I'm not going to be able to sit still until I know that he's okay, anyway." She gave Hermione a half-smile, who nodded in agreement. "Where are we brewing it at? The same place we got the potion at?"

Hermione nodded. "It seems the safest," she answered as she headed out of the dormitory. Gwyn watched her go before grabbing her clothes and heading off towards the bathroom. Once she was dressed, she headed out of the dormitory and into the common room. It was still early and on a Sunday, so there weren't very many people up as she headed out to the hospital wing.

Harry was eating breakfast while Madam Pomfrey was checking his arm to make sure that his arm had been properly re-boned before she let him go. "All in good order," she said as she finally released him. "You can go as soon as you're finished eating."

She moved past Gwyn and into her office as Harry grinned up at Gwyn. "Hey, you okay?" she asked as she sat down next to him. "I brought you some fresh clothes."

"Thanks," Harry said gratefully.

Gwyn nodded and glanced over towards the bed that was hidden behind a large curtain. "Colin?" she questioned and his eyes widened in surprise. She shrugged. "Hermione told me, I think she might have overheard one of the teachers talking about it. They've gone to go brew the potion, thought we should get started right away. That's why they're not here."

"I wondered," Harry said, nodding as he finished eating and Gwyn moved away from the curtain so that he could get dressed. When he finished, they headed out of the hospital wing and towards Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, where Ron and Hermione were starting to brew the potion. "Listen, last night, I heard that voice again—"

"Figures," Gwyn sighed. "I felt the presence again." She looked at Harry pointedly. "It can't be just coincidence that both times, we've heard/felt something and then someone turns up Petrified." Gwyn shook her head. "The sooner than we can get Malfoy's confession, the better I'll feel. I don't like that there's something running around Hogwarts attacking students."

"Me, neither," Harry agreed. "But there's something else as well. Dobby visited me during the night." Gwyn stopped, her hand on the door to the bathroom as she swivelled her head to look at him.

"Okay, we'll talk about that in a minute," she told him. Harry nodded in agreement as he handed her the book that he was carrying.

"Thanks for that, anyway," he told her.

"No problem, figured that it'd be better than paying attention to the pain all night," Gwyn said as she cast a quick glance both ways, checking to make sure no one was coming before she pushed open the door and they hurried inside, shutting the door behind them quietly.

Hearing Hermione's voice whispering to Ron, Gwyn grinned mischievously at Harry before placing a finger over her lips. He hide an amused smile as she quietly walked over to the last stall and pushed open the door. "Hi, guys!" she said cheerfully, startling both Ron and Hermione and causing Hermione to spill some of the lacewing flies.

"GWYN!" both of them yelled at her and she grinned, leaning against the stall as Harry chuckled, coming up behind her.

"Harry!" Hermione said anxiously as she saw him. "You gave us such a fright! How's your arm!"

"Fine," Harry said as all four of them were crowded inside, sitting down on the ground. Hermione had conjured up a portable, water-proof fire under the cauldron they were brewing the potion in, which sat on top of the toilet.

"We would've met you, but we heard about Colin and thought that it would be best if we started on the potion right away," Hermione explained as Gwyn peered into the cauldron.

"That looks disgusting," she commented as she sat back down. "I hope it looks better by the time that it's finished."

"Don't count on it," Ron told her. "But the sooner we get a confession out of Malfoy, the better. You know what I think? He was in such a foul temper after the Quidditch match, he took it out on Colin."

"Well, there's something else," Gwyn told them. "Dobby was back." She turned to Harry. "What exactly did he say this time?"

"Well, for starters, it was Dobby who made that Bludger come after me and stopped the barrier from letting Ron and me through," Harry said. Gwyn, Hermione, and Ron all gawked at him. "As for the Chamber, he didn't say very much. All I managed to get out of him was that the Chamber has been opened once before." He looked towards them all. Gwyn couldn't believe what she'd heard; the Chamber had been opened once before? But then surely Slytherin's line had to have been coming here for a long time. It could easily be Malfoy or it could very well be the same person that it had been last time.

"That settles it," Ron said triumphantly. "Lucius Malfoy must've opened the Chamber when he was at school here and now he's told dear old Draco how to do it. It's obvious. Wish Dobby told you what kind of monster's in there, though. I want to know how nobody's noticed it sneaking around the school."

"Maybe it can make itself invisible," Hermione suggested. "Or maybe it can disguise itself, pretend to be a suit of armour or something—I've read about Chameleon Ghouls—"

"You read too much, Hermione," Ron told her before he turned to look at Harry. "So Dobby stopped us from getting on the train and broke your arm. . . . You know what, Harry? If he doesn't stop trying to save your life, he's going to kill you."

--

Christmas was approaching and with it, the Polyjuice Potion was starting to get closer and closer to being ready. They only needed to get some ingredients from Snape's private stashes, which meant that they had to create a disturbance in Potions class.

Of course, Gwyn would've rather gone up against Slytherin's monster, but she didn't say that to Hermione as she boldly went to Fred and George and asked them for one of their firecrackers. When they heard that they wanted to create mayhem in Snape's class, they were all too happy to oblige.

Hermione was the only one who did the actual stealing while Harry lit the firecracker and threw it into Goyle's potion. They were brewing the Swelling Solution that day and it caused half of the class to get hit by the potion, causing complete chaos for a few minutes, enough time for Hermione to sneak into the office and steal the ingredients.

Snape hadn't seen who had actually done the damage, though Gwyn was sure that he suspected one of them—Harry, most likely. He was the one who he hated most.

The potion was close to being done when a notice came up for a Duelling Club. Gwyn doubted that it was going to be of any use, but she went along with Harry, Ron, and Hermione as they went to the first meeting. Unfortunately, the professor that was going to be teaching them was—

"Gather round, gather round!" Lockhart called as he waved them around the golden stage. "Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent! Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little duelling club, to train you all in case you ever need to defend yourself as I myself have done on countless occasions—for full details, see my published works."

Gwyn noticed Snape had climbed onto the stage as well, as Lockhart's teaching assistant. "Wouldn't it be great if they finished each other off?" Ron whispered to them.

"That's too much to hope for," Gwyn said.

"Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape," Lockhart said, smiling widely. "He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about duelling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngster to worry—you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear!" He and Snape had both pulled out their wands, bowed to each other before raising their wands like swords in front of each other. "As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position. On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither one of us will be aiming for the kill, of course."

"Shame," Gwyn muttered.

"I shouldn't bet on that," Harry whispered. Gwyn looked at Snape and saw the murderous look on Snape's face.

Snape was the first to act as they moved their wands towards their opponents. "_Expelliarmus!_" he roared and a burst of scarlet light soared towards Lockhart, blasting him off of his feet.

Hermione was on her tiptoes, trying to see if the Defence teacher was all right. She wasn't the only one; almost all of the girls in the room were doing the same thing she was. "Do you think he's all right?" she asked frantically, looking at the fallen professor.

"Who cares?" Ron and Harry asked at the same time.

"Well, there you have it!" Lockhart announced as he got to his feet. "That was a Disarming Charm—as you see, I've lost my wand—ah, thank you, Miss Brown—yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind my saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you, it would have been only too easy—however, I felt it would be instructive to let them see. . . . Enough demonstrating! I'm going to come amongst you now and put you all into pairs. Professor Snape, if you'd like to help me—"

Snape was only all too happy to oblige as he reached the quartet, his lips curling into a sneer. "It's time to split up the dream team, I think," he said. "Weasley, you can partner Finnigan. Potter—" Harry moved quickly to Gwyn, but Snape was still sneering at them. "I don't think so. Mr. Malfoy, come over here. Let's see what you can make of the famous Potter. Miss Granger, you can partner Miss Bulstrode. And Miss Swann . . . let's see how you handle Miss Toren."

The blood drained from Gwyn's face as she looked towards the brunette girl who approached her. This, she guessed, had to be Alaric's younger sister Morgause, who looked about a year older than she was. She had the same dark eyes as her brother and the same proud, haughty expression. Not to mention, she looked at Gwyn as though she were looking at an insect that should be squashed quickly.

"This should be interesting," she heard Ron muttered to Harry, but she ignored him, just stared at her cousin, whose dark eyes were fixed upon her blue ones. Gwyn gripped her wand tightly as Morgause raised her own towards her face threateningly.

"Face your partners!" Lockhart called. "And bow!" Gwyn wasn't about to turn her eyes away from her cousin and bowed her head only slightly; Morgause did no less.

"Wands at the ready! When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponents—_only_ to disarm them—we don't want any accidents—one . . . two . . . three—"

Morgause reacted before Lockhart had finished saying three, nearly hitting Gwyn with a spell. Had she not moved out of the way just in time, Gwyn would have been hit with it.

Unfortunately, it hit Neville, who was right behind her and throwing him off of his feet. "Sorry, Neville!" Gwyn yelled at him before turning towards her cousin and hurling the first spell that came to mind at her. "_Incendio!_" A jet of fire came flaring out of her wand, striking Morgause and igniting her robes with bright flames.

She put them out with a douse of water, but the look that she shot Gwyn was more murderous than one of Snape's. Gwyn gulped and threw up a Shield Charm just as Morgause shot the Conjunctivitus Curse at her. It shattered the Shield Charm, but otherwise did no more damage.

Taking advantage of Gwyn's spell being shattered, Morgause moved forward and tackled her, getting in one good punch as Lockhart screamed for them to stop. She felt someone pull Morgause off of her and blinked up at Harry, who helped her to her feet.

"Thanks," she said, accepting his help and rubbed the spot where Morgause had punched her. She was definitely going to have a bruise in the following morning. She looked around for her friends. Hermione had gotten into a fistfight with Millicent Bulstrode while Ron's damaged wand had done something to Seamus.

"I think I'd better teach you how to _block_ unfriendly spells," Lockhart observed, looking anxious. "Let's have a volunteer pair—Longbottom and Finch-Fletchley, how about you—"

"Longbottom causes devastation with the simplest spells," Snape commented, his black eyes dangerous. Neville went red with embarrassment. "We'll be sending what's left of Finch-Fletchley up to the hospital wing in a matchbox. How about Malfoy and Potter?"

"Be careful," Gwyn whispered to Harry as he reluctantly moved towards the centre of the room. He nodded in agreement as he was joined by Malfoy, whose face was filled with glee. She gripped her wand with worry as she watched Malfoy; if he showed any signs of trying to hurt Harry . . . she didn't care about the rules, she'd hex him on the spot.  
Malfoy cast the first spell. "_Serpensortia!_" he roared and a long, black snake came slithering out of it. Several of the students around Gwyn screamed and moved away, leaving her quite alone on the floor. The snake was moving towards Harry as Lockhart tried to rid of it.

However, this only sent the snake flying and landed several feet from Gwyn, raising its head and was about to strike when Gwyn heard a faint hissing sound. Barely able to breathe, Gwyn looked towards Harry, who was emitting the hissing sound, to which the snake seemed to be responding.

Harry looked towards Gwyn, who stared at him in astonishment. She wasn't sure how he'd done it, but somehow, he'd stopped the snake from attacking her. She faintly heard whispers echoing all around her and without warning, Gwyn felt Hermione grab her and push her towards the exit with Ron grabbing Harry.

"What's going on?" Gwyn demanded as they raced up towards the common room, which was empty. Everyone else was still at the Duelling Club.

Ron pushed Harry into the first chair, looking at him incredulously. "You're a Parselmouth? Why didn't you tell us?"

"I'm a what?"

"A _Parselmouth!_" Ron repeated, putting emphasis on the word. "You can talk to snakes!"

"I know," Harry said. "I mean, that's only the second time I've ever done it. I accidentally set a boa constrictor on my cousin Dudley at the zoo once—long story—but it was telling me it had never seen Brazil and I sort of set it free without meaning to—that was before I knew I was a wizard—but so what?" he added. "I bet loads of people here can do it."

"Oh, no, they can't," Ron replied, shaking his head. Gwyn had sat down in the seat next to Harry. "It's not a very common gift, Harry, this is bad."

"What's bad?" Harry looked at Gwyn and she shrugged, letting him know that she was on his side. She'd seen what happened; it had been about to attack her and he'd stopped it. "What's wrong with everybody? That snake was about to attack Gwyn and if I hadn't told it not to attack her—"

"Oh, that's what you said to it?"

"You were there," Harry reminded him. "You heard me—"

"I heard you speaking Parseltongue," Ron corrected him. "Snake language. You could have been saying anything—no wonder everyone panicked, you sounded like you were egging the snake on or something, it was creepy, you know—"

Harry stared at him, then to Hermione, and finally to Gwyn for confirmation. "I spoke a different language? But I didn't realise . . . how can I speak a language without knowing I can?"

"I'm still a little fuzzy on what's got everybody so upset," Gwyn interceded, speaking for the first time. "I'm still alive, isn't that the important thing? Who cares how Harry saved me, so long as he did?"

"It matters because Salazar Slytherin was a Parselmouth," Hermione said. "That's why the symbol of Slytherin house is a serpent."

"Exactly!" Ron said as Gwyn and Harry both stared at Hermione in astonishment and horror, realisation starting to set in. "And now the whole school is going to think that you're his great-great-great-great grandson or something."

"But I'm not!"

"You'll find that hard to prove," Hermione said quietly. "He lived about a thousand years ago. For all we know, you could be."

--

The next day, the only thing that people could talk about was what had happened at the Duelling Club. Gwyn was shocked and a bit angry that people believed that Harry was the Heir of Slytherin and quite a few of them had approached her, telling her that if she needed protection from him, all she needed to do was go to Dumbledore.

Needless to say, she snapped at quite a few people that day, telling them off right from the start. Harry had left early in the morning, not saying a word to any of them. Clearly, he was starting to believe what everyone else was.

While Ron and Hermione were playing chess, Gwyn headed out to find Harry. It took her a while to track him down; he wasn't anywhere in the castle. Finally, Fred and George told her that they saw him flying earlier across the lake. She walked around and finally came to a quiet spot on the opposite side of the grounds.

Harry was sitting there, his cloak wrapped around him tightly due to the cold weather approaching. She had never seen him looking so scared or vulnerable or unsure. At that moment, she knew that she'd made the right decision in coming after him.

He must've heard her approach, because his head turned around to face her and she sat down on the rock next to him, looking out towards the lake, not sure how to begin. "It's quiet here," she finally said. "Good place to think. Or to hide from your friends."

"Didn't work out so well." Harry glanced sideways at her. "You know I didn't set that snake on you, don't you?"

"Of course I do," Gwyn said, looking at him in exasperation. "How could I not? You're my best friend, Harry, since day one at this place. In a year and a half, we've been through more than most friends go through in a lifetime. You wouldn't do anything to hurt me. I know that."

"I wish that I was as sure as you," Harry said softly. "Gwyn . . . when we were Sorted last year . . . the hat wanted to put me in Slytherin." She blinked in surprise. "What if I was Sorted into the wrong house? What if I'm really meant to be in Slytherin? I mean . . . why else would I be able to speak Parseltongue?" He looked down at his hands, avoiding Gwyn's gaze.

"So . . . why did the hat put you in Gryffindor?" Gwyn said after a long moment.

"Because I asked it to," Harry responded, his expression stony, his green eyes dull and terrified.

Gwyn nodded slowly. "And you don't think that it makes a difference? Harry, if there's one thing that I've learned since I found out I was a witch, it's that the choices that we make determines who we are. Look at my mother! She was a witch born into one of the darkest families in history and yet she chose a different path. Sure, you could have chosen to go into Slytherin and probably would have done just fine, but don't you see? It was your choice and you made it. You chose not to follow the paths of dark wizards and just because you have some dark ability doesn't make you bad. You don't think many of the witches and wizards in history had Dark powers? You don't think Dumbledore knows Dark Magic? Harry, look at me," she added when he didn't look convinced. "I know you, okay? You're my best friend and nothing is ever going to change that. You couldn't be a dark wizard, even if you tried. It's not in you."

Harry sighed. "So you don't think that I'm the Heir of Slytherin?"

"No." Gwyn moved closer and wrapped her arms around him. "I don't. You're not a bad person, Harry. And the Heir of Slytherin would _be_ in Slytherin. Maybe it's Malfoy, maybe it's Voldemort, maybe it's . . . Goyle," she added, making Harry chuckle. "But whoever it is, it's not you."

"Are you sure?" Harry looked at her desperately. "How do you know that I'm not being used by the monster?"

Gwyn sighed and reached into her bag, pulling out her diary. "Madeline gave this to me for Christmas last year," she told him. "I've been writing in it ever since, writing everything that has happened in my life, our adventures, my friends, thoughts . . ." She flipped through it and turned to entry on the last day of the school year the previous year. "Here, read that."

Harry gave her a look, but took the diary, reading where she'd written about Quirrell, Voldemort, and the Sorcerer's Stone.

"_He's always been strong, always doing the right thing, despite the danger. This past year, I can't think of how lucky I am that he's my friend. He's faced the darkest of wizards twice and both times has survived. Harry Potter is going to save the world someday . . . and I'm not sure he even knows it._"

Looking up at her, Harry asked, "Do you really believe that?"

Smiling at her best friend, Gwyn took the diary back. "You're going to be fine, Harry. The Heir of Slytherin and his monster don't stand a chance."


	12. A Very Merry Christmas

**Gwyn Swann and the Chamber of Secrets**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Twelve: A Very Merry Christmas

Snow fell upon Hogwarts and Gwyn woke up to find it covered with a thick, white powder, glistening even in the looming grey sky, threatening to send more of the blizzard. The snowy weather made it next to impossible to get to the greenhouses for Herbology, so it was cancelled, leaving the second-years with nothing to do. Gwyn had been using every spare moment she could to figure out what the monster in the Chamber was, but so far she hadn't come up with anything useful.

She had just opened up an old, battered copy on mystical creatures when Harry suddenly appeared behind her. Gwyn jumped a mile. "Don't do that!" she snapped at him, who grinned apologetically. "You don't sneak up on people in the middle of a library."

"Sorry," Harry apologised as he handed her the book that she'd dropped thanks to him scaring her. "Ron and Hermione were playing chess in the common room and . . ." He shifted uncomfortably. "I couldn't stand the way that people were looking at me. They still think that I'm the Slytherin Heir." From the way he avoided her gaze, she could tell that the doubt still lingered in his mind.

"Well, they're wrong," Gwyn said flatly, leaving no room for argument. "If any of them had any sense, then they would know it in an instant."

Harry nodded, but abruptly changed the subject. "What are you doing?"

Gwyn let the subject slide for the moment. "Just seeing if I could get any idea of what might be in the Chamber," she answered as she selected another volume. "If we're going to be fighting this thing, I'd much rather know what we're up against."

"Good idea." Harry moved to take some of the books out of her hand and they headed out towards the library, but voices coming from the group of Hufflepuffs who were in Herbology with them made both of them stop in their tracks when they heard the conversation.

"Hannah, he's a Parselmouth. Everyone knows that's the mark of a Dark wizard. Have you ever heard of a decent one who could talk to snakes? They called Slytherin himself Serpent-tongue." The speaker was Ernie Macmillan of Hufflepuff. "Remember what was written on the wall? _Enemies of the Heir, Beware_. Potter had some sort of run-in with Filch. Next thing we know, Filch's cat was attacked. That first-year, Creevey, was annoying Potter at the Quidditch match, taking pictures of him while he was lying in the mud. Next thing that we know—Creevey's been attacked."

"He always seems so nice, though," Hannah Abbott said, her voice uncertain. "And, after all, he's the one who made You-Know-Who disappear. He can't be all bad, can he?"

"No one knows how he survived that attack by You-Know-Who. I mean to say, he was only a baby when it happened. He should have been blasted into smithereens. Only a really powerful Dark wizard could have survived a curse like that. _That's _probably why You-Know-Who wanted to kill him in the first place. Didn't want another Dark Lord_ competing_ with him. I wonder what other powers Potter has been hiding?"

Gwyn looked at Harry; his expression was unreadable as he moved out into view and every one of the Hufflepuffs saw him standing there. She sighed as she joined him, tugging on his sleeve and moving towards one of the tables, where they deposited all of the books onto the table. "Don't make it worse," she whispered to him imploringly.

"Easy for you to say," Harry hissed at her. "You're not the one that they're talking about."

"Excuse me." Ernie had approached them, an incredulous look on his face as he looked at Gwyn. "But you're welcome to sit at our table if you want to, Guinevere."

Gwyn looked at him sharply, already having heard this from half of the Gryffindors and most of her year. "I'm fine where I am, Ernie, thanks." She turned to the books.

"But . . . but how could you sit with _him_ after what happened at the Duelling Club?" Ernie demanded, aghast. "We were all there, we saw what happened—"

"You didn't see what you thought you saw!" Harry interjected, glaring at Ernie furiously. Gwyn sighed, closing her books. There was no way that this was going to end without a quarrel.

"All I saw," Ernie countered, "Was you speaking Parseltongue and chasing that snake towards your . . . friend." The way that the spacing between the two words was timed, it was clear that he didn't believe that the two were anything even remotely close to friends.

"I didn't chase it at Gwyn!" Harry retorted, his voice shaking with anger. "Why would I attack my best friend?"

"I don't know why you did it," Ernie said stubbornly. "But you must have a reason. And in case you're getting any ideas," he added hastily, "I might tell you that you can trace my family back through nine generations of witches and warlocks and my blood's as pure as anyone's so—"

"I don't care what sort of blood you've got!" Harry said, his voice rising so that the librarian glared at them. "Why would I attack Muggle-borns?"

"Guys, enough!" Gwyn exploded, not caring if they got thrown out of the library or not. She stood up, glaring at Ernie furiously. "Listen to me, all of you! None of you have any right to accuse Harry. Do any of you even speak Parseltongue?" she demanded.

"Of course not!" Ernie looked like she'd insulted him.

"Then how do you know what he was telling that snake?" Gwyn gripped her robes tightly, willing herself not to reach for her wand. "He's my best friend and I trust him. There's no way that he could have possibly been telling that snake to attack me."

"But—"

"Shut up!" Gwyn snapped at Ernie, not letting him speak. "I don't care how many of you think you saw what you saw, I don't if every last person in this castle accuses Harry. I'm standing by him and I'm telling you now, there is no way that he could be the Heir of Slytherin."

"You can't trust him!"

"If the situation was different," Gwyn said, her voice steady. "If it was one of your best friends who was a Parselmouth and the snake had almost attacked you, would you believe them if they told you they didn't attack you? Wouldn't you know in your heart that they couldn't have done that?"

Ernie was silent for the first time, unable to come up with a retort as he looked towards Hannah, hesitant before he looked at Gwyn and Harry, unable to say anything for a full moment. But there was nothing he could say at that moment, because without warning, Peeves suddenly shrieked from somewhere within the castle.

"ATTACK! ATTACK! ANOTHER ATTACK! NO MORTAL OR GHOST IS SAFE! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! ATTAAAACK!"

Gwyn looked at Harry and both of them took off in the direction of Peeves' voice, the Hufflepuffs right behind them. They found Justin Finch-Fletchley and Nearly Headless Nick motionless in one of the corridors. Grasping Harry's hand, Gwyn looked towards the Hufflepuffs.

"_Now_ do you believe me?" she demanded, her eyes like daggers. Ernie bowed his head, submitting to the inevitable as Hannah stepped forward.

"I'm sorry, Harry," she said courteously, smiling at him. "But you have to admit that the situation did look a bit suspicious." She looked towards Justin, her face pained.

Gwyn looked at Harry, who met her blue eyes. In one look, they were both in agreement; they needed to finish the Polyjuice Potion and fast and find out whether or not Malfoy was the Heir of Slytherin. This had to stop . . . before someone got killed.

--

Christmas came swifter than any of them could have expected. Malfoy had stayed at Hogwarts during the holidays, which was highly suspicious to Gwyn, but it was also the perfect opportunity to use the Polyjuice Potion. On Christmas Day, Gwyn woke to find a heap of presents on the end of her bed.

With a smile, Gwyn sat up and tugged the presents towards her, unwrapping them carefully. Harry had given her a book on Charms, which were slightly more advanced that what they were doing, but if she was careful, she was sure that she could master them. Ron had given her a box of Chocolate Frogs. Hermione's present was a magical lock for her diary, ensuring that nobody but her would be able to open it.

Madeline, who was spending her holiday once again with her sister in America, had sent her an assortment of chocolates and a note, telling her to share them with her friends and to enjoy her Christmas. From the note, Gwyn could tell that her guardian was worried about the rumours that were doubtlessly spreading through the wizarding world about Hogwarts and the attacks on Muggle-borns, but Gwyn was safe. She was half-blood, after all, and therefore there was no reason for the Heir to attack _her_.

To her great surprise, Mrs. Weasley had sent her one of the famous Weasley sweaters that she'd seen on Ron and his brothers. It was a deep, sapphire blue and hand-knitted. She smiled at Mrs. Weasley's kindness as she looked around at Hermione's bed; it was empty.

Wondering where the bushy-haired witch was, Gwyn headed into the bathroom to get dressed, pulling on her new sweater as she donned Muggle clothes, as she usually did during the holidays. When she emerged from the bathroom, Hermione was walking into the room, looking as though she'd been up for hours.

"Merry Christmas," she greeted happily, her brown eyes obviously delighted.

"Merry Christmas . . . thanks for the present, Hermione."

Beaming at her, Hermione said happily, "You're welcome. The potion's ready." Gwyn blinked at her abruptness and then she grinned as deliriously as Hermione was as they went to go wake the boys and tell them the news. For better or worse, tonight they might finally know who was the Heir of Slytherin . . .

Hermione was going to be using a hair that she plucked off of Millicent Bulstrode's robes during the Duelling Club. Harry and Ron had tackled getting hairs from Crabbe and Goyle after the Christmas dinner and get them out of the way while they interrogated Malfoy. Gwyn, after a long decision, finally was forced to pluck some hairs from her cousin Morgause, who was going home with her brother for the holidays. Like Hermione, she was just going to say that she'd decided to come back and hope they didn't notice anything.

The girls were in the bathroom, separating the potion into four glasses when the boys returned, each wearing a triumphant look and a fistful of hair in their hands. "Did you get them?" Hermione asked.

"Did you ever doubt us?" Ron said dryly as he saw the robes that were sitting next to Gwyn, who had already donned the silver and green robes of Slytherin. "What are those?"

"Slytherin robes," Gwyn replied. "I had to sneak them from the laundry. Go get changed, fast," she ordered, handing them each a pair of robes.

"I'm sure that I've done everything right," Hermione said nervously as she re-read the page. "It looks like the book says it should . . . once we've drunk it, we'll have exactly an hour before we change back into ourselves."

Harry emerged from one of the stalls, tying the Slytherin tie as Ron appeared next to Hermione. "Now what?"

"Add the hairs," Hermione answered as Gwyn dropped the blonde hair of her cousin into her own glass. Her glass turned into a disgusting shade of green. Her insides squirmed as she peered into it. Millicent Bulstrode's turned a sickly yellow colour, while Crabbe's was a dark, murky brown, and Goyle's turned into a khaki colour. "Cheers."

"Hang on," Harry interrupted. "We'd better not all drink them in here. . . . Once we turn into Crabbe and Goyle, we won't fit. And Millicent Bulstrode's no pixie," he added.

"Good idea," Gwyn added as she headed into another stall. Harry and Ron headed into different ones. "Everybody ready?"

"Ready!" her friends called back.

"One, two, three," Harry counted. On three, Gwyn swallowed the potion as fast as she could, grimacing at the taste. Almost instantly, she felt as though she were going to be sick, as though her insides were turning inside out. She wanted to scream, to yell, to do something, but the pain was too intense.

Falling to her knees, Gwyn whimpered as a burning sensation occurred all over her body. But before she could even think that this was a mistake, it was all over. Gwyn groaned slightly as she pushed herself up off of the floor and unlocked the door to come face-to-face with Goyle.

"Harry?" she gasped in surprise and he gawked at her in astonishment as she walked over to the mirror, looking at her reflection. Morgause's haughty face peered back at her, her dark eyes wide and shocked. It was a peculiar sensation, seeing her cousin's face stare back at her. "Oh, this is way too weird . . ."

"Are you two okay?" Goyle—Harry—asked their friends.

"Yeah," Crabbe's grunt answered him as Ron came out of his stall. He looked at his reflection as he prodded Crabbe's nose. "This is unbelievable. Unbelievable." Gwyn nodded in agreement, looking towards Hermione's stall. She still hadn't come out yet.

"Hermione, come on, we have to go," Gwyn said, knocking on the door.

"We've still got to find out where the Slytherin common room is," Harry added, loosening his watch. "I only hope we can find someone to follow . . ."

"You don't know how bizarre it is to see Goyle _thinking,_" Ron commented as he, too, banged on Hermione's stall. "Hermione, come on!"

Something was wrong, Gwyn thought in realisation. The tingling feeling in her stomach was back as Hermione answered them. "I—I don't think I'm going to come after all. You go on without me."

"Hermione, we all know Millicent Bulstrode's ugly, no one's going to know it's you—"

"No, really, I don't think I'll come," Hermione squeaked. "You three hurry up, you're wasting time."

Gwyn looked at Harry. "You two go, I'll stay with her," she ordered, not about to leave Hermione when she knew something was up. Harry nodded as he pushed Ron out of the bathroom, leaving the two girls alone.

With a sigh, Gwyn walked over to the bathroom, pushing the stall open. A gasp left her as she saw what the problem was. "Oh, _Hermione!_" she whispered in horror.

Instantly, Hermione broke down into sobs, covering her furry face in shame and Gwyn shut the door behind her, wrapping her arms around her friend, patting her on the back to calm her down.

It took close to an hour for Gwyn to get Hermione to calm down and by that time, the boys were hurrying back into the bathroom. Gwyn had already turned back to normal as she came out of the stall. "We've got a slight problem," she said weakly as she led Hermione out. The bushy-haired witch was still crying. "It was a cat's hair that Hermione used and the potion isn't supposed to be used for animal transformations . . ."

Myrtle had overheard everything since the boys had left and Gwyn had never seen the ghost look so happy in the year and a half that Gwyn had known her. "You'll be teased something dreadful," she said, her eyes practically dancing with delight.

"It's okay, Hermione," Harry said reassuringly. "We'll take you up to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey never asks too many questions. . . ."

"Nobody's going to see you, Hermione," Gwyn added reasonably when she put up a protest on leaving the bathroom. "Almost everybody went home for the holidays and it's late. Anybody who hasn't is in the common room by now."

Eventually, Hermione was persuaded to go to the hospital wing, where Madam Pomfrey took care of her, sending them away so she could treat the new patient. Probably the first one in weeks that was still mobile.

When they reached the common room, they went straight up to the boys' dormitory, where Gwyn turned to look at them. "So?" she asked eagerly. "What _did_ you find out?"

AN: Okay, guys, I am really, really, _really_ upset that I didn't get any reviews on the last chapter. That was one of the longest chapters I've written . . . ever, plus I worked really hard on that one. So could you please, _please, PLEASE_ review both this chapter and Chapter Eleven so that I will be more encouraged to keep writing this series? If you do, then I promise, I'll update twice more before Christmas.

Oh, Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all!

Lady Dawson


	13. A Clue to the Mystery

**Gwyn Swann and the Chamber of Secrets**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Thirteen: A Clue to the Mystery

Much to Gwyn's disappointment, not only was Malfoy not the Heir of Slytherin, but he also had no idea who it could have been. His father knew all about the Chamber opening fifty years previously, but refused to tell Malfoy anything about it because it would look too suspicious if he knew a lot about it. The only valuable piece of information that they had gotten was the last time the Chamber of Secrets had been opened, a Muggle-born had been killed.

Hermione was still in the hospital wing by the time the holidays had ended and students flooded back into the school with much anticipation, but since the incident with Justin and Nick, there hadn't been any attacks. Gwyn, Harry, and Ron were just leaving from visiting Hermione and dropping off the latest schoolwork when they heard yelling coming from where the first attack had been.

"That's Filch," Harry commented as they climbed up the stairs just outside Myrtle's bathroom.

"You don't think someone else's been attacked?" Ron asked tensely, but Gwyn shook her head.

"I didn't sense anything," she replied. "And I've sensed it every time that there's been an attack. You didn't hear anything, did you?" she asked, directing the question at Harry, who shook his head. They stopped where they were as Filch shrieked hysterically.

"—_even more work for me! Mopping all night, like I haven't got enough to do! No, this is the final straw, I'm going to Dumbledore—_" She could hear the sound of water coming from the floor above as Filch sloshed through it and vanished from out of sight.

Completing the journey up the stairs, Gwyn found the entire floor flooded with water, coming from Myrtle's bathroom. Myrtle's wailing was coming from the bathroom itself and as Gwyn glanced both ways to make sure no one was watching, she pushed her way through the flood and into the bathroom, Harry and Ron right behind her.

"What's up, Myrtle?" Harry asked as they pushed the door closed behind them, which was rather difficult with all of the water.

"Who's that?" Myrtle was sitting in her usual toilet, crying even harder than she usually was. "Come to throw something else at me?"

"Why would I throw something at you?"

"Don't ask me," Myrtle snapped as she flew up and splashed even more water onto the soaking floor. "Here I am, minding my own business and someone thinks it's funny to throw a book at me. . . ."

"But who threw it at you?" Gwyn asked, folding her arms across her chest and frowning slightly. She highly doubted that someone had deliberately thrown something at her. Sure, someone might have thrown a book at her, but they might not have even been aiming for her.

"_I_ don't know. . . . I was just sitting in the U-bend, thinking about death, and it fell right through the top of my head," Myrtle replied, floating away from there and pointing aimlessly towards the sinks. "It's over there, it got washed out . . ."

Gwyn saw a small, black book lying underneath the sink, soaking wet like the rest of the bathroom. Harry moved past them to pick it up, but Ron threw out his hand to stop him. "What?" he demanded, looking at the redheaded wizard.

"Are you crazy?" Ron asked. "It could be dangerous."

Both Gwyn and Harry gave him dubious looks. "Come off it, Ron, how could it be dangerous?" Harry asked.

"You'd be surprised," Ron said, eyeing the book with apprehension. "Some of the books the Ministry's confiscated—Dad's told me—there was one that burned your eyes out. And everyone who read _Sonnets of a Sorcerer_ spoke in limericks for the rest of their lives. And some old witch had a book that you could_ never stop reading_! You just had to wander around with your nose in it, trying to do everything left-handed. And—"

"All right, I've got the point," Harry said with a sigh. "But we're not going to find out anything unless we look at it." Ducking underneath Ron's arm, he walked boldly over to the diary and picked it up. Gwyn followed him, peering over his shoulder as he opened it up.

"T.M. Riddle," she read the name on the first page, frowning slightly. Something about the name sent shivers down her spine.

"Hang on," Ron said as he, too, finally came over and looked at the diary. "I know that name. . . . T.M. Riddle got an award for special services to the school fifty years ago."

Gwyn stared at him in astonishment; Hermione, she could understand knowing that, but Ron?

"How do you know that?" Harry, too, looked amazed.

"Because Filch made me polish his shield about fifty times in detention," Ron replied. Gwyn remembered the detention that he'd had after the car incident. "That was the one I burped slugs all over. If you'd wiped slime off of a name for an hour, you'd remember it, too."

"Good point," Gwyn agreed as Harry peeled the pages apart. Nothing was written inside them. She frowned down at the pages, wondering who would leave around a diary that nobody had written in.

"He never wrote in it." Harry sounded disappointed as he turned the book over and over again, as though looking for some slight clue as to why the book was there.

"I wonder why someone wanted to flush it away?" Ron questioned as Gwyn saw a name on the back of the book.

"Vauxhall Road," she said, frowning slightly at the name. "That's in the Muggle world, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "He must have been Muggle-born, to have bought a diary from Vauxhall Road. . . ."

"Well, it's not much use to you," Ron said as they headed out of the bathroom, Gwyn checking both ways to make sure the coast was clear. Despite Ron's comment, Harry took the diary with them.

--

When Hermione was released from the hospital wing, they showed her the diary that they'd found and where they had found it at. Hermione was intrigued and highly interested in the diary.

"It might have hidden powers," she said excitedly as she examined it closely.

"If it has, it's hiding them very well," Ron told her. He was the only one of the group who seemed to think that the diary was just a diary. Gwyn was sure that there was something else about the diary. Why else would someone try to flush it down a toilet? "Maybe it's shy. I don't know why you don't chuck it, Harry."

"I wish I knew why someone did try to chuck it. I wouldn't mind knowing how riddle got an award for special services to Hogwarts either."

"Could've been anything." Ron shrugged carelessly. "Maybe he got thirty O.W.L.s or saved a teacher from the giant squid. Maybe he murdered Myrtle; that would've done everybody a favour. . . ." He noticed the look that passed between the other three. "What?"

"The Chamber of Secrets was opened fifty years ago," Gwyn answered simply. "That's what you guys said, right?"

"And this diary is fifty years old," Hermione added when both of the boys nodded in confirmation. Ron still looked bewildered. "Oh, Ronald, wake up! We know the person who opened the Chamber of Secrets last time was expelled _fifty years ago_. We know T.M. Riddle got an award for special services to the school _fifty years ago_. Well, what if Riddle got his special award for _catching the Heir of Slytherin_? His diary would probably tell us everything—where the Chamber is, and how to open it, and what sort of creature lives in it—the person who's behind the attacks this time wouldn't want that lying around, would they?"

"It's a brilliant theory, Hermione," Ron told her. "There's just one tiny problem with that. _There's nothing written in his diary_."

"It might be invisible ink," Hermione insisted as she pulled her wand out of her bag. Tapping the diary three times, she whispered, "_Aparecium!_" Gwyn was disappointed when nothing happened. Hermione was dissuaded, however, as she pulled out a bright red eraser out. "It's a Revealer, I got it in Diagon Alley," she explained as she rubbed on January 1st, but still nothing revealed themselves to the quartet.

"I'm telling you, there's nothing in there. Riddle just got a diary for Christmas and couldn't be bothered filling it in."

Gwyn ignored the bickering that emerged as she picked up the diary, looking down at it carefully. Almost the second that she touched it, a picture formed in her head of a young boy around sixteen with black hair. Then the image was crossed over with an emblem of a snake and skull.

"What is it?" Harry asked her softly, seeing her expression. "Gwyn, what's wrong?"

"I'm not sure." Gwyn stared at the diary, frowning slightly. Somehow, she had the feeling that T.M. Riddle was the key to solving the mystery of the Chamber of Secrets. And this diary was the way to finding out who—or what—he was.

--

They managed to find Riddle on the shield that Ron had seen his name on, but no clue as to what he'd gotten it for, as well as on an old Medal for Magical Merit and on a list of old Head Boys. But with no more clue as to who Riddle was, they were back at square one with nowhere more to look. Gwyn was still researching magical creatures to find out what the monster in the Chamber was, but was having little luck. Meanwhile, Lockhart seemed to decide, with the lack of attacks, that the school needed a little cheering up.

Of course, Lockhart always did have the wrong way of thinking what everybody needed. His idea of a cheering people up was to go all out on Valentine's Day. Gwyn walked into the Great Hall with Harry on February 14th to find the entire hall covered with large pink flowers and confetti falling down from the ceiling.

"What's going on?" Harry asked incredulously as they joined Ron and Hermione at the table. Ron rolled his eyes as he pointed towards the table, where Lockhart was wearing pink robes.

"Happy Valentine's Day!" Lockhart shouted. "And may I thank the forty-six people who have so far sent me cards! Yes, I have taken the liberty of arranging this little surprise for you all—and it doesn't end here!"

"Oh, what could be better than this?" Gwyn muttered darkly. Ron snorted, Harry fought a smile, but Hermione scowled at her.

The door opened and a dozen dwarves walked in, all wearing a sour look and wearing golden wings and carrying harps. "My friendly, card-carrying cupids!" Lockhart announced. "They will be roving around the school today delivering your valentines! And the fun doesn't stop here! I'm sure my colleagues will want to enter into the spirit of the occasion. Why not ask Professor Snape to show you how to whip up a Love Potion? And while you're at it, Professor Flitwick knows more about Entrancing Enchantments than any wizard I've ever met, the sly old dog!"

"I've got an idea," Gwyn whispered to the boys, "how about we ask how the best way it is to curse certain Defence teachers into the next century?"

Both Harry and Ron looked tempted by the idea as they headed out of the Great Hall—Gwyn had lost her appetite soon after arriving.

Throughout the day, Gwyn would've given anything for it to be over with as the dwarves swept in and out of classes to deliver valentines. Fred and George apparently thought it was funny to send her a valentine that exploded with fireworks during Potions. Snape was livid and took away twenty points for it, making her swear that she was going to hex Ron's brothers the next time that she saw them.

And Gwyn wasn't the only one who received a valentine from one of the Weasleys. Ginny had sent him a singing valentine, much to his embarrassment. The dwarf tore his bag when he tried to make a run for it and ink splashed all over his books and belongings. The only thing that was curious about this was that Riddle's diary remained as clean as it had before the ink bottle had smashed over it.

"Maybe he cast a spell on it so that it wouldn't get ruined," Gwyn speculated as they sat up in the common room that night. The twins still had the remains of Gwyn's Furnunculus Curse, but that didn't stop them from continuing to sing Harry's valentine over and over again. Eventually, Harry went up to his dormitory to get away from it and Gwyn was working on the extra Potions essay that she'd received in addition to losing points.

It was late when Ron and Harry came barging down into the common room, where she and Hermione were still up. "What's going on?" Gwyn asked, seeing their expressions.

Harry was the first to speak. "It was Hagrid. Hagrid opened the Chamber of Secrets fifty years ago."


	14. Another Attack

**Gwyn Swann and the Chamber of Secrets**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Fourteen: Another Attack

The gamekeeper at Hogwarts had always been interested in creatures that other people would call frightening or terrifying. Gwyn could imagine Hagrid at their own age trying to tame a beast that was roaming around the castle very easily. But since there hadn't been anymore attacks since Justin and Nick, the quartet decided not to ask Hagrid about it until anything else happened.

Gwyn sincerely hoped that they would never have to bring up the topic with their friend, because she had a feeling that this was the very reason why Hagrid had been expelled from Hogwarts in the first place.

Thankfully, they were given a new subject to think about when Easter holidays approached. Since their second-years were coming to an end and during third-year, they got to pick new subjects to take the following term. Gwyn had sat down with her friends, trying to figure out which subjects she wanted to take.

"It could affect our whole future," Hermione had told them seriously while they sat, going over the lists. The only subject that Gwyn knew for sure she wasn't taking was Muggle Studies. She had been born and raised in the Muggle world, so there was no real reason for her to study that.

"I just want to give up Potions," Harry sighed, his quill between his teeth as he looked over the list.

"We can't," Ron said, looking about as gloomy as Harry at the thought of keeping all of the subjects that they were already taking. "We have to keep all of our old subjects, otherwise I would've ditched Defence Against the Dark Arts." Hermione looked up at this statement.

"But that's very important!"

"Not the way that Lockhart teaches it," Ron countered. "The only thing that I have learned from him is to not set pixies loose."

Gwyn smiled as she looked over the list again. "Well, Care of the Magical Creatures sounds interesting," she admitted. "It might turn out useful in the future, anyway. In two years, we've been faced with two beasts. Fluffy and now Slytherin's monster. Who's to say that we're not going to face more next year?"

"She's got a point," Harry agreed. "I was thinking about that, anyway. Just don't know what else I'm going to take."

"Arithmancy and Ancient Runes sound way too hard," Ron grumbled, making a face as he crossed them off. "All right, Care of the Magical Creatures sounds okay and I think Divination. Hermione, what are you taking?"

"Everything."

Even Gwyn looked at her in amazement. "Hermione, do you realise how much of a workload that is?" she demanded incredulously. "And is there even enough time to go to every single one of the classes?"

"I'll manage," Hermione said breezily before looking over at her. "Have you decided what you're taking?"

Gwyn shrugged, still scanning the lists carefully. "Definitely Care of the Magical Creatures," she answered. "And I was thinking Arithmancy as well."

"Why not Divination?"

"Because I don't need to have a class in order to see the future," Gwyn answered pointedly. "I do that enough already." Harry grinned and Ron nodded in agreement. "Besides, I live enough in the future. I take a class on it and I might just miss the important things in the present. Like having fun with my friends," she added.

Hermione smiled, but shook her head. "It might just help to tune your psyche," she pointed out.

"Or make it worse. It works fine the way it is, Hermione." Gwyn check-marked Care of the Magical Creatures and Arithmancy, hoping very much that the classes were going to be better than Defence was this year. Of course, with Lockhart, that wasn't saying very much.

--

It was the night before the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff when Harry and Ron came hurrying down the stairs while Gwyn was looking through an Arithmancy book that she'd borrowed from Percy. Looking up at them, startled to see the looks on their faces. They were torn between shock and triumph.

"What happened now?" she asked.

"Somebody's been searching through my stuff," Harry said quickly. "Everything flung across the dormitory and . . . Tom Riddle's diary is gone." Gwyn gawked at him; but why would someone go searching through his stuff and steal the diary? There were plenty of other things to steal, why that particular thing? Unless the person who had tried to get rid of it has seen Harry had it and didn't want him figuring out how to work it . . .

"But—only a Gryffindor could have stolen—nobody else knows our password—" Hermione began.

Harry nodded. "Exactly."

--

Despite Hermione's urgings to report the robbery, Harry had refused to say anything, because one he did, he'd have to explain about the diary and then about Hagrid's expulsion. Gwyn wasn't sure if Hagrid was the culprit, but he couldn't have gotten into Gryffindor Tower; he didn't know the password. One of the Gryffindors had to be the new owner of the diary—or the former one. But could the Heir of Slytherin really be in Gryffindor?

They were just heading towards the doors to go to Quidditch field when Gwyn felt it. The presence of the monster slithering somewhere nearby, warning her that it was there. At the same time, Harry let out a cry, making both Ron and Hermione jump in alarm.

"That voice!" he said urgently. "I just heard it again—did you sense it?" he asked Gwyn and she nodded quickly.

"Hopefully, everyone will be out of the castle soon," she whispered worriedly as Hermione suddenly slapped a hand to her forehead, turning around to hurry towards the library.

"Harry—I think I've understood everything! I've got to go to the library!" she exclaimed as she ran away from them. The remaining three all looked at each other, mystified.

"What's she understand?"

"Loads more than I do," Ron said, shaking his head. "Come on, Harry, you'd better get moving. It's nearly eleven."

Harry hesitated, but then went to go collect his broom and robes while Gwyn and Ron headed out towards the Quidditch field with the rest of the school. Gwyn felt relieved at knowing that the entire school was quiet and empty of any students, meaning that the monster wasn't going to be able to attack anyone.

Of course, just as she was commenting this to Ron, a surging pain reared through her mind and Gwyn's eyes slammed shut as images flashed through it. A mirror was held out in front of her as she turned the corner and from the mirror, she saw the reflection of yellow eyes . . .

She felt cold . . . everything was going dark . . . she felt so still and cold and unresponsive . . . the yellow eyes would be the last thing that she saw before she was pulled into an unaroused sleep.

"Gwyn!" Ron was shaking her as she came out of the vision and she blinked up at him in bewilderment. "Are you okay? One minute, I was talking and the next you were moaning about something. You were getting really hard to understand . . ."

"Someone else has been attacked," Gwyn whispered, the realisation of what she'd seen surging through her. "I saw it . . ."

Ron's face paled. "Who?"

"I don't know," Gwyn whispered, shaking her head. "But they were using a mirror to look around corners and then I saw yellow eyes . . . it was horrible, Ron . . ." She looked up as Professor McGonagall was running onto the pitch, a megaphone in her hand.

"_This match has been cancelled!_" she shouted through it. Everyone shouted in protest, including Oliver Wood, who flew down to argue, but she ignored him. "_All students are to make their way back to the House common rooms at once, where their Heads of Houses will give them further information. As quickly as you can, please!_" She lowered the megaphone and motioned Harry to follow her. Gwyn and Ron cast glances to each other before they pushed their way through the crowd to get to their best friend.

McGonagall saw them coming and motioned them over. "Yes, perhaps you two had better come as well," she told them as they followed the Transfiguration teacher into the school. Gwyn's heart clenched as they were being led to the infirmary. "This will be a bit of a shock," McGonagall told them, her voice gentle. "There has been another attack . . . another _double_ attack."

Madam Pomfrey was tending to a curly-haired Ravenclaw that looked to be in her fifth-year, her face wide and stone-like. Gwyn swallowed as she turned to the bed opposite of the Ravenclaw.

"Hermione," Ron whispered, his voice strangled.

The bushy-haired witch was lying utterly still. Gwyn couldn't move, could barely even breathe, especially with what McGonagall said after.

"They were found near the library," Professor McGonagall explained. "I don't suppose any of you can explain this? It was on the floor next to them. . . ." She held up the same mirror that Gwyn had seen in her vision and her heart leaped into her throat at the sight of it.

She couldn't even find the energy to shake her head as McGonagall looked at all three of them, nor did she hear the Transfiguration teacher question her directly.

"Gwyn," Harry whispered, touching her shoulder. That was all it took for her to break down into sobs, turning into his chest and burying her face into it. Harry wrapped his arms around her, cradling her as she cried.

Harry held her tightly as she sobbed, eventually managing to get control of herself enough to walk to Gryffindor Tower with McGonagall and her friends. But instead of the quartet that they had become over a year ago, they were the trio, with the brightest among them out of commission. And there was nothing left that they could do.

Gwyn walked with Harry and Ron to sit down next to the fireplace with the rest of their house as McGonagall unravelled a parchment to read aloud to everyone.

"All students will return to their house common rooms by six o'clock in the evening. No student is to leave the dormitories after that time. You will be escorted to each lesson by a teacher. No student is to use the bathroom unaccompanied by a teacher. All further Quidditch training and matches are to be postponed. There will be no more evening activities." She rolled up the parchment. "I hardly need to add that I have rarely been so distressed. It is likely that the school will be closed unless the culprit behind these attacks is caught. I would urge anyone who thinks they might know anything about them to come forward."

Without another word, McGonagall walked out of the common room. Harry turned to look at Gwyn, who was sitting curled up in the chair, staring into the fire.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm so far away from okay, I barely know the meaning of it anymore," Gwyn whispered. She wiped her eyes before looking at the boys. "What are we going to do?"

"We have got to go talk to Hagrid," Harry said quietly, making sure no one overheard him. Gwyn nodded; Hagrid was the one clue that they had to making sense of all of this. "I can't believe it's him this time, but if he set the monster loose last time, then he'll know how to get inside the Chamber of Secrets. And that's a start."

"But McGonagall said we've got to stay in our tower unless we're at a class—" Ron protested.

"Yeah, well, we've never been very good about following the rules," Gwyn said sharply. Ron swallowed. "Why should we start now?"

Harry nodded, looking at Ron. "I think it's time to get my dad's old cloak out again."

--

It was difficult to get to Hagrid's after dark that night. First, Gwyn had to sneak out of the dormitory without arousing suspicion from the other girls and meet Harry and Ron in the common room. After making sure that there was no one around, they threw the Invisibility Cloak over themselves before heading out of the common room. And the castle itself was more secure than Gwyn had ever seen it. The castle was starting to feel more like a jail than a school, she thought miserably as they hurried across the grounds, only pulling the cloak off when they were outside Hagrid's front door and Harry knocked on the door.

The door opened and Gwyn almost screamed when she found herself facing a crossbow. Thankfully, she covered her mouth just in time and Hagrid lowered it quickly, seeing who it was. "What are you three doin' here?"

"What's that for?" Harry demanded, looking shaken.

"Nothin'—nothin'—" Hagrid mumbled. "I've bin expectin'—doesn' matter—Sit down—I'll make tea—"

Hagrid seemed hardly aware of what he was doing and eventually Gwyn shooed him away and made the tea herself, grateful to have something else to think about besides her Petrified friend. When she placed teacups in front of each of them, Harry looked at Hagrid quickly. "Did you hear about Hermione?"

Hagrid nodded, his face crumpling at the thought. "Yeah, I heard about that, all righ'," he answered, his voice breaking.

Gwyn looked at Hagrid, feeling as though the time for pretence was over. "Hagrid, I know this isn't the best time, but we have to ask you something," she told him quietly. "Do you know who opened the Chamber of Secrets?"

The gamekeeper's face raised towards her and he took a deep breath. "What you have to understand about that is—"

Before he could finish, a knock came at the door and Harry grabbed the Cloak, pulling Gwyn and Ron into the furthest corner before throwing the Cloak over them. Only when Hagrid was sure that they were hidden did he open the door, crossbow in hand. He instantly lowered it and let the two visitors inside.

"Good evening, Hagrid," Dumbledore said as he entered with a man that Gwyn didn't know, but Ron did.

"That's Dad's boss," he whispered to Gwyn and Harry. "Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic." Gwyn had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach as they entered the house.

"Bad, business, Hagrid," Fudge said. "Very bad business. Had to come. Four attacks on Muggle-borns. Things have gone far enough. The Ministry's got to act—"

"But I never!" Hagrid protested, looking anxiously at Dumbledore. "You know I never, Professor Dumbledore, sir—"

"I want it understood, Cornelius," Dumbledore said, stopping Hagrid's feeble protests at proclaiming his innocence. He was frowning at Fudge, a disapproving look in his face. "That Hagrid has my full confidence." Fudge looked uncomfortable.

"Look, Albus, Hagrid's record is against him. Ministry's got to do something—the school governors have been in touch—"

"Yet again, Cornelius, I tell you that taking Hagrid away will not help in the slightest."

"Look at it from my point of view. I'm under a lot of pressure. Got to be seen doing something. If it turns out it wasn't Hagrid, he'll be back and no more said. But I've got to take him. Got to. Wouldn't be doing my duty—"

"Take me?" Hagrid looked terrified. "Take me where? Not Azkaban Prison!"

But no one had a chance to say anything else as the door opened and Lucius Malfoy entered into the house. Ron elbowed Harry as he let out a soft gasp. "Already here, Fudge? Good, good . . ."

"What're you doin' here?" Hagrid glared at Malfoy, his black eyes furious. "Get outta my house!"

"My dear man, please believe me, I have no pleasure at all in being inside your—er—do you call this a house? No, I simply called at the school and was told the headmaster was here." Mr. Malfoy looked to Dumbledore.

"And what is it that you want with me, Lucius?"

"_Dreadful_ thing, Dumbledore, but the governors feel it's time for you to step aside. This is an Order of Suspension—you'll find all twelve signatures on it. I'm afraid we feel you're losing your touch. How many attacks have there been now? Two more this afternoon, wasn't it?" Gwyn's jaw tightened and Malfoy's cold, uncaring tone, but Harry's tug on her jacket kept her quiet. "At this rate, there'll be no Muggle-borns left at Hogwarts, and we all know what an _awful_ loss that would be to the school."

Fudge looked taken aback at this proclamation, fiddling with his hat fretfully. "Oh, now, see here, Lucius. Dumbledore suspended—no, no—last thing we want just now—"

"The appointment—or suspension—of the headmaster is a matter for the governors, Fudge," Mr. Malfoy said. "Ad as Dumbledore has failed to stop these attacks—"

"See here, Malfoy, if _Dumbledore_ can't stop them. . . . I mean to say, who can?"

"That remains to be seen. But as all twelve of us have voted—"

_Wonder how many of them he blackmailed to get them to sign that suspension?_ Gwyn thought darkly. Hagrid obviously thought the same thing, because he thought as much to Malfoy, who merely told him not to shout at the Azkaban guards like that.

"Yeh can' take Dumbledore! Take him away, an' the Muggle-borns won't stand a chance! There'll be killin' next!"

"Calm yourself, Hagrid," Dumbledore said as he looked up from the parchment Malfoy had given him. "If the governors want my removal, Lucius, I shall of course step aside—" He continued to look at Malfoy. "However, you will find that I only _truly_ have left this school when none here are loyal to me. And you will also find that help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it."

"Admirable sentiments," Malfoy said, thought Gwyn thought she saw Dumbledore's eyes fly to where they were standing, invisible. "We shall all miss your—er—highly individual way of running things, Albus, and only hope that your successor will manage to prevent any killings."

He left the cabin, followed by Dumbledore, who gave a small smile to where they were standing, before Fudge and Hagrid were standing alone.

Taking a deep breath, Hagrid said loudly, "If anyone wanted ter find out some _stuff_, all they'd have ter do would be ter follow the _spiders_. That'd lead 'em right! That's all I'm sayin'." Fudge looked at Hagrid as though he had lost his mind. "All right, I'm comin'," Hagrid said as he grabbed his coat. "An' someone'll need ter feed Fang while I'm away."

Fudge shook his head in bewilderment as he walked out of the cabin with Hagrid. When the door shut, they pulled the Cloak, looking at each other.

"We're in trouble now," Ron whispered. "No Dumbledore. They might as well close the school tonight."

"Hagrid's right," Gwyn whispered, staring at the closed door that Fang was whining at. "With Dumbledore gone . . . there'll be an attack in a day."

"What now?" Ron asked Harry, who hadn't moved.

He took a long time to answer. "We find out what Hagrid meant . . . and we find some answers."


	15. Into the Forest

**Gwyn Swann and the Chamber of Secrets**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Fifteen: Into the Forest

With the castle and its students under extreme supervision, Gwyn soon discovered that it was going to be harder to find out the mystery of the spiders than it had been to get past Fluffy. Unable to go unescorted—even to the bathroom—she found that not only were they not finding any hints about the spiders, but her temper was soon on end and it wasn't only because of not finding anything useful about the Chamber.

Malfoy had been parading around the school since the dismissal of Dumbledore as if the matter had been settled and he'd been fired instead of merely suspended. He'd also made some disconcerting remarks about Hermione, causing Ron to try and attack Malfoy in the middle of Potions class. He was lucky that the bell had rung while it happened, because no one noticed while they were collecting their books. As Harry and Dean Thomas held Ron back, Gwyn collected all four of their belongings as they headed to Herbology.

It wasn't until Harry tapped her while she'd been working on one of the Abyssinian Shrivelfigs—something that she was trying to pay close attention to—that she noticed anything strange happening. "What?" she whispered, as Ernie and Hannah from Hufflepuff were close by. Guiding her with his eyes, he pointed out the spiders that were scurrying along the grounds, heading straight for the Forbidden Forest, the one place that she had never set foot in on Hogwarts grounds and hadn't really had any desire to.

But it didn't matter; if the spiders were headed into the forest, then to the forest she would go. She nodded to Harry as he hit Ron's hand with his pruning shears, causing Ron to yelp in surprise before looking at Harry angrily. The dark haired wizard inclined his head towards the spiders and Ron followed their gazes, seeing them. He couldn't even force himself to look pleased.

"Oh, yeah," he mumbled as the Hufflepuffs looked towards them, the curiosity evident in their eyes. "But we can't follow them now."

"No, of course not," Gwyn murmured as she turned her attention back to the plant, which was being very temperamental. "We'll go tonight." Harry nodded in agreement and though Ron looked unhappy, the lack of Hermione being with them seemed to make up his mind as he nodded somewhat reluctantly.

In the end, they decided to use the Invisibility Cloak and to take Fang with them, mostly because he knew the forest a lot better than they did, seeing as Hagrid took him in there with him all the time. It was a long time, however, before they were able to sneak away. With the new bans on leaving after curfew, there was no longer any place to go after six, so the Gryffindors were all huddled together in the common room, making any attempt at sneaking away hard to do before everyone went to bed.

Fred, George, and Ginny were the last ones to leave and once the door closed behind them, Harry pulled out the cloak and with one last glance around the empty common room, threw it over the three of them. Gwyn checked to make sure she still had her wand—something she had taken to doing these days—before they walked out of the common room and through the dark castle that seemed even more ominous these days. Ominous and sad.

But not nearly as sad as Hagrid's hut when they approached it and saw the black windows with no cheery gamekeeper to invite them in and offer them some tea and some badly made cooking. Gwyn's heart nearly broke at the sight of it.

"Let's get this over with," she said as she opened the door, letting Fang out and scratching him behind the ears to quiet him. In his joy at seeing them, he seemed to forget about the cat smell on Gwyn and allowed her to scratch him. "Come on, Fang, we're going for a walk."

"_Lumos,_" Harry said, lighting his wand as they walked into the forest, Fang trotting ahead of them, happy to be out of Hagrid's hut. Gwyn, thinking that was probably a good idea, lit hers. The two wands combined was enough to light up a pretty good circle around them, so they didn't have to stop much and find the spiders again.

They had to miles within the forest now, Gwyn realised as she shivered slightly, looking at the creepy and hauntingly trees that loomed around them. A distant howl came from nowhere and she jumped, nearly stepping on Ron's foot. "What was that?" she whispered.

"Nothing," Harry said, though he didn't look convinced. Ron was starting to look even more panicked than he had when they first entered. "It sounded too far away, anyway . . ."

"Right," Gwyn agreed, her voice carrying a tremor. "Yeah, you're right . . . it's probably nothing." She hoped that she sounded more convinced that she felt at the moment. Every inch of her was expecting something to jump out and attack them . . . and after all, there was a reason why the forest was forbidden, wasn't there?

Harry suddenly stopped and she nearly slammed into him. "What?" she whispered urgently as Fang let out a sharp bark, alerting them to something nearby. Gwyn moved closer to Harry, gripping his sleeve tightly as she withdrew her wand.

"There's something moving over there," Harry whispered in a voice barely above a quiet wind. "Listen . . . sounds like something big." Gwyn listened carefully as she heard the noise and she almost laughed at the sound.

"Guys," she said, unable to control her relief. "It's a _car_."

"What?!" Harry and Ron both stared at her before they broke into a run as a blinding light emerged from seemingly nowhere and Gwyn hurried after them to find Mr. Weasley's car standing in the middle of a bunch of trees, covered in vines, leaves, mud and other stuff from the forest.

"Dad's car!" Ron said, laughing in delight. "It's been here all the time! Look at it. The forest's turned it wild. . . ." He looked delighted to see the car that had caused so much trouble when they had flown it to Hogwarts earlier in the year. "And we thought it was going to attack us! I wondered where it had gone!" He patted the car affectionately and Gwyn rolled her eyes; it seemed that all boys, even wizards, had an affection for cars.

Harry was looking around them. "Do you see the spiders anywhere?" he asked Gwyn desperately and she shook her head, raising her wand higher to search further, but the headlights from the car had chased them away.

"No, maybe we should—" Gwyn's suggestion was cut off when something seized her around the middle and dragged her off the ground. She shrieked in surprise and heard Ron yell as he too was dragged up with her, Harry, and Fang.

Struggling to break free, she found that it was near impossible to do; the creature had her locked in tight and there was nothing she could do but wait for them to drop her. As the darkness adjusting somewhat, she saw that they were in the midst of a hollow that was covered in every direction with spiders. She wasn't exactly afraid of spiders, but right now, with so many around them and no way out, she thought that Ron's phobia was justified.

The spiders that were holding them captive weren't tiny, but giant-sized ones that were clicking their pincers excitedly at the sight of them. She could hear Ron whimpering as they were dropped onto the ground. Scrambling to her feet, she hurried to her friends to make sure that they were all right. "You two okay?" she whispered frantically.

"Yeah, we're fine," Harry assured her as he pushed himself up and Gwyn looked around.

"I'm not sure for how long, though," Gwyn said, her eyes behind Harry and he turned around to see a spider that was bigger than all of the other spiders, clearly an elder, emerged. His eyes were white, unseeing.

"What is it?" he asked towards the spiders that had summoned him, the ones who'd brought them here.

"Men," a spider clicked.

"Since when has anybody actually denied that I was an actual girl?" Gwyn mumbled, only loud enough for Harry and Ron to hear. Harry silenced her with a look.

"Is it Hagrid?" the spider that they had addressed as Aragog asked, moving closer to them.

"We're friends of Hagrid's!" Harry shouted.

Gwyn felt her heart stop as silence rang all around them. To her, that was more threatening then the pincers. Aragog was silent. "Hagrid has never sent men into our hollow before," he said after a long, tense moment. But he was listening, Gwyn thought. That was a good thing. Right now, she was too terrified for her psyche to even reach her.

"He's in trouble," Harry explained quickly, his hand gripping Gwyn's tightly for support. "That's why we've come."

"In trouble?" Aragog echoed. Gwyn noticed a hint of concern underneath the threatening pincers. "But why has he sent you?"

"Up at the school, there have been attacks," Harry said, his voice unsteady, but he kept going. "They think it's Hagrid. They think _he_ opened the Chamber of Secrets. Like before. They've taken him to Azkaban."

The very thought of this seemed to make Aragog furious, but the noise that echoed around them from the spiders made Gwyn's stomach tense in fear and nausea.

"That was years ago," Aragog said, his tone agitated. "Years and years ago. I remember it so well. That was why they made him leave the school. They believed that _I_ was the monster that dwells in what they call the Chamber of Secrets. They thought that Hagrid had opened the Chamber and set me free."

"Then . . . you're not the monster?" Gwyn asked, her voice shaking, but determined. "You didn't come from the Chamber of Secrets?"

"I!" Aragog sounded affronted at the very thought. "I was not born in the castle. I come from a distant land. A traveller gave me to Hagrid when I was an egg. Hagrid was only a bow, but he cared for me, hidden in a cupboard in the castle, feeding me on scraps from the table. Hagrid is my good friend and a good man. When I was discovered and blamed for the death of a girl, he protected me. I have lived here in the forest ever since, where Hagrid still visits me. He even found me a wife, Mosag, and you see how our family has grown, all through Hagrid's goodness. . . ."

"So . . . you've never attacked anyone?" Harry asked, his voice hesitant, as though he were reluctant to continue the conversation. His grip on Gwyn's hand was now so tight that she was sure he was cutting off the circulation.

"Never," Aragog insisted. "It would have been my instinct, but out of respect for Hagrid, I never harmed a human. The body of the girl who was killed was discovered in a bathroom. I never saw any part of the castle but the cupboard in which I grew up. Our kind like the dark and the quiet. . . ."

"But then. . . . Do you know what _did_ kill that girl? Because whatever it is, it's back and attacking people again—"

Gwyn moved closer to the boys when what sounded like an outburst exploded from all around them.

"The thing that lives in the castle," Aragog told them, "is an ancient creature we spiders fear above all others. Well do I remember how I pleaded with Hagrid to let me go, when I sensed the beast moving about the castle."

"What is it?" Gwyn asked, her voice trembling.

"We do not speak of it!" Aragog's voice was like thunder. "We do not name it! I never even told Hagrid the name of that dreadful creature, though he asked me, many times."

It was then that Gwyn noticed how closer the spiders were getting, inching ever so closer to them . . . and she didn't need to be a seer to sense the thirst for their blood.

Harry obviously noticed this as well, because he looked even more nervous than she felt. "Uh . . . well, thank you," he said, forcing the politeness into his voice. "We'll just . . . go." But there was nowhere to run now, Gwyn thought as she turned, her blonde hair whipping into her face.

"Go?" Aragog sounded amused. "I think not. . . . My sons and daughters do not harm Hagrid, on my command, but I cannot deny them fresh meat when it wanders so willingly into our midst. Goodbye, friend of Hagrid."

"Wands at the ready!" Gwyn ordered, pushing her fear aside. They had to get out of here or they were going to die. The very thought of getting killed cleared her mind and filled her with a sense of purpose. "Anybody know any spells?" she asked.

"One!" Harry answered quickly as he looked around at the looming spiders. "But it's not powerful enough for all of them!"

"Where's Hermione when you need her?" Ron moaned as the spiders moved onto attack and he let out a scream of terror that seemed to pierce the night.

But his scream seemed to be their salvation. The moment that he shouted, the sound of an approaching car snarled its way through the hollow and they spun around to find the spiders retreating from the headlights as the Weasley car sped towards them and came to a stop right in front of them.

"Get Fang!" Harry yelled to Ron as he pushed Gwyn ahead of him, practically shoving her into the backseat. Gwyn grunted as Ron seized the dog, throwing him into the car as the boys climbed into the front seat. The moment that they were all inside, the car roared to life and sped through the hollow, knocking spiders aside as they sped out of the hollow.

None of them spoke as the car drove its way through the forest, none of them daring to so much as look at each other until they were well away from the hollow. Only then did Harry look at her and Ron, the worry evident in his expression.

"Gwyn, you okay?"

"Yeah," she answered truthfully. She wasn't hurt, but she was a little bit shaken up. "You?"

Harry nodded before turning to Ron. "Are you okay?" he asked. Ron didn't answer, his eyes still fixed ahead of them, not speaking.

Even though they were out of danger, Gwyn couldn't bring herself to put away her wand until they were at Hagrid's hut. Opening the door, she climbed out and let Fang out. He bolted towards Hagrid's hut, whining at the door until Harry and Gwyn let him inside and they collected the Invisibility Cloak where they'd left it sitting on Hagrid's table. Glancing out the window, Gwyn grimaced and looked at Harry.

"I'd wait a few minutes if I were you," she told Harry. His eyebrows went up. "Ron's being sick in the backyard."

Wrinkling his nose, Harry folded up the cloak and they waited a minute before they headed outside to check on Ron. By this time, he was done and sitting on the chair in the pumpkin patch, still looking rather pale.

"Follow the spiders," Ron snarled at them. "Follow the spiders! If Hagrid ever gets out of Azkaban, I'll kill him! We're lucky to be alive!"

"But we are, that's the important thing," Gwyn reasoned.

"And I bet he thought Aragog wouldn't hurt friends of his," Harry said.

"That's exactly Hagrid's problem!" Ron yelled. He struck the cabin in an effort to control himself. "He always thinks monsters aren't as bad as they're made out, and look where it's got him! A cell in Azkaban!" He turned back to them, his temper raging. "What was the point of sending us in there! What have we found out? I'd really like to know!"

"We know one thing," Harry said quietly. "Hagrid never opened the Chamber of Secrets. He was innocent."

Ron snorted in disbelief as Gwyn sighed, running her fingers through her hair. "Come on," she said quietly. "Can we please just go back to the common room?" The way her voice shook made both boys look at her and Harry opened the cloak, throwing it over them as they proceeded to the castle.

The common room was just as deserted as when they had left and while the boys headed up into the dormitory, Gwyn stayed in the common room, curled up in one of the seats next to the dying fire, her robes wrapped tightly around her. It wasn't long before Harry climbed back down, his green eyes regarding her worriedly.

"Can't sleep?"

Gwyn laughed bitterly. "I'll be lucky if I can sleep anytime this week," she admitted. Harry looked at her, a bit worriedly.

"You want some company?" She nodded and he sat next to her, looking into the fire for a minute. She didn't need to look up to know that both of them were thinking about what Aragog had said. "Do you think that there was something else that we missed back there?"

"I don't know," Gwyn sighed. "We didn't find anything out, really . . . Riddle caught the wrong person, the only clue we have to finding out what the monster is that spiders are afraid of it, and I can't even get to the library now to go through the books there. And I don't have any here that are going to be of any help!" Gwyn pressed her head against her knees, shaking her head in distress. "That monster sounds just like Voldemort, doesn't it?" she asked suddenly. "Even other monsters are afraid to speak of it."

"You realised that, too?" Harry inquired with a small chuckle. She smiled faintly as she raised her head, shifting her position. "I don't know what else we can do, Gwyn. . . . We're running into dead ends all over the place. There's not even any way to tell if it's the same person or a different one. Maybe if we could find out more about the girl who died—"

_The girl was discovered in a bathroom._

Gwyn sat up so suddenly that Harry jumped and hit his head on the back of the chair. Rubbing it painfully, he glared up at Gwyn reproachfully. "What was that all about?" he demanded.

"Sorry," Gwyn said, her voice filled with a renewed sense of hope. "But Harry . . . the girl who died, she died in a bathroom, that's what Aragog said, isn't it?"

"Yeah. . . ."

"So . . . what if she never left?" Gwyn asked him. At once, Harry realised what she was talking about. "What if she's _still there_?"

"You think that it was . . ."

"Moaning Myrtle," they both said at the same time. And this time, Gwyn felt the triumph of finally figuring out a piece of the puzzle, but in reality, how were they ever going to talk to her now?


	16. Finding the Chamber

**Gwyn Swann and the Chamber of Secrets**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Sixteen: Finding the Chamber

Needless to say, Ron was torn between astonishment and bitterness when they told him what they'd figured out the following morning. "All those times we were in that bathroom and she was just three toilets away. We could've asked her anytime and now . . ."

Harry looked at Gwyn. "I don't suppose you'll be able to get into her bathroom, could you?"

Gwyn shook her head helplessly. "Not even if a teacher took me there. That bathroom's off-limits now, has been since the beginning of the year. No, the chances of us getting in there are about a slim as four first-years tackling a mountain troll," she tried to joke, but Ron and Harry just gave her exasperated looks as they were escorted to Transfiguration.

That was when they were discovered something even more shocking than Moaning Myrtle was the girl who'd died fifty years ago. Despite the school in his current state, despite that there were students lying Petrified in the hospital wing, they were still receiving exams. Gwyn had hardly been expecting this, even with all of her Seeing power.

Ron looked incredulously at her and Harry after McGonagall's announcement and held up his broken wand, which had suddenly burst into a whistle that made several students around them wince. "Can you imagine me taking exams with this?"

"You're not the only one who's doomed," Gwyn mumbled as she climbed out of her chair to follow the rest of their class to the next lesson. "If any of us manage to pass all the classes this year, then I'll be shocked." She shook her head as she looked at Harry and Ron. "I mean, how can any of us really study with everything going on?"

"Not likely," Ron mumbled.

In the end, they ended up studying for the exams, seeing they had no other way to find some answers to the mystery. The one clue that they had was the one that they couldn't get to. And even if they could, Gwyn wondered if Myrtle would even tell them what had happened.

But then McGonagall made the announcement that pushed all thoughts of getting into Myrtle's bathroom out of their minds. The Mandrakes were ready for cutting and they would be delivering the draft that would revive them that night. Gwyn, Harry, and Ron joined in the cheering that exploded throughout the hall at the announcement.

"It won't matter that we never asked Myrtle, then!" Ron said happily to them. "Hermione'll probably have all the answers when they wake her up! Mind you, she'll go crazy when she finds out we've got exams in three days. She hasn't studied. It might be kinder to leave her where she is until they're over."

"Ronald Weasley!" Gwyn said, swatting him, but she couldn't contain the happiness that was residing through her. They were going to have their best friend back and Ron was right—they were probably going to have all the answers by tonight.

Ginny suddenly appeared next to her, sitting down in the seat next to her brother, looking nervous and pale.

"What's up?" Ron asked, hardly even glancing at his sister. Gwyn gave him a look before studying the redheaded witch carefully, noting her frightened expression and the way she was rocking back and forth in her chair. She nudged Ron and looked pointedly at his sister. Harry was watching Ginny carefully, frowning as Ron said, "Spit it out."

"I've got to tell you something," Ginny whispered, refusing to look at any of them, but staring determinedly down at her hands.

"What's wrong?" Gwyn asked her, a tingling sensation appearing in the back of her neck, alerting her that something was wrong.

"What is it?" Harry asked her when Ginny didn't respond right away. She opened her mouth a few times, but nothing came out and finally Harry moved forward so only the three could hear him. "Is it something about the Chamber of Secrets? Have you seen something? Someone acting oddly?"

Ginny bit her lip, taking a deep breath before she opened her mouth to speak. Of course, at that moment, Percy appeared next to her, looking exhausted. "If you've finished eating, I'll take that seat, Ginny. I'm starving. I've only just come off patrol duty."

Jumping up, Ginny gave Percy a terrified look before she fled. Ron looked furious as he turned towards his older brother. "Percy! She was just about to tell us something important!"

Percy nearly choked on his tea when Ron said that and through watering eyes, looked at his youngest brother. "What sort of thing?"

"I just asked her if she'd seen anything odd and she started to say—"

"Oh that . . . that's nothing to do with the Chamber of Secrets."

"How do you know?"

Percy looked highly uncomfortable. "Well, if you must know . . . Ginny . . . she walked in on me the other day when I was . . . never mind," he mumbled, his cheeks red with embarrassment. "The point is she spotted me doing something and I . . . I asked her not to mention it to anyone. I must say, I did think she'd keep her word. It's nothing, really, I'd just rather—"

"What were you doing, Percy?" Ron was grinning at the thought of Percy doing something improper. "Go on, tell us, we won't laugh."

"Yes, you would," Gwyn muttered out of the corner of her mouth. Instead of telling them, Percy only plunged into his breakfast, refusing to discuss it.

--

Even with the hope that the Petrified would have the answers when they woke up that night, Gwyn couldn't ignore the feeling she'd had crawling up her spine and finally told Harry and Ron she was going to sneak into Myrtle's bathroom. To her surprise, Harry agreed with her and to her great delight, the perfect opportunity arose when Lockhart escorted them to History of Magic, already assured that the danger had passed when Hagrid was taken away and that the security measures weren't necessary.

Managing to convince him to let them go on ahead so he could "prepare his next class," Gwyn hung back with Harry and Ron until the rest of the Gryffindors had gone ahead of them before heading off to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Gwyn checked both ways to make sure that the coast was clear—she wasn't likely to get into trouble, but Ron and Harry were—but when she turned around, the blood drained from her face.

Professor McGonagall was standing right behind them and looking livid. "Potter! Weasley! Miss Swann! What are you doing?!"

Ron looked towards Harry and Gwyn for support as he began to stammer out explanations, none of which made any sense until Harry said, "Hermione." Even Gwyn looked at him in surprise; since when did he come up with good stories? "We haven't seen her for ages, Professor, and we thought we'd sneak into the hospital wing, you know, and tell her the Mandrakes are nearly ready and, er, not to worry—"

McGonagall stared at him, but her expression wasn't angry. In fact, it was understanding. "Of course," she said at long last. Gwyn gawked at her; she had half-expected to be hauled into detention. "Of course, I realise this has been hardest one the friends of those who have been . . . I quite understand. Yes, Potter, of course you may visit Miss Granger. I will inform Professor Binns where you've gone. Tell Madam Pomfrey I have given my permission."

Hardly daring to believe their luck, Gwyn pushed Harry and Ron ahead of them, not daring to look behind her or stop until they were a corridor away.

Ron looked at Harry. "That was the best story that you've ever come up with," he said admiringly.

"Come on," Gwyn said, jerking her head towards the stairs. "Let's go visit Hermione. We can try and sneak into the bathroom on the way back." Harry nodded in agreement as they climbed up the stairs, heading towards the hospital wing, where they were, rather reluctantly, allowed in by the nurse.

Hermione looked the exact same as the last time she had seen her, with her face pale and stone-like, her eyes not seeing anything in front of her. She could have been made of stone for all they could tell.

"Wonder if she did see the attacker, though?" Ron whispered, looking at Hermione forlornly. "Because if he sneaked up on them, no one'll ever know. . ."

"Or she," Gwyn interjected. Ron rolled his eyes as Gwyn looked at Harry, who was studying Hermione's hand curiously. "What's up, Harry?" she asked, moving towards where he was sitting. He pointed and she looked to see that Hermione was clutching something in her hand. "Try and get it out."

"Get what out?" Ron whispered as Gwyn blocked Harry from the nurse's view. She silenced him with a look as Harry struggled to remove the page from Hermione's tight grip. When he finally managed to tug it free, he smoothed it out and started to read.

_"'Of the many fearsome beasts and monsters that roam our land, there is none more curious or deadly than the Basilisk, known also as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may reach gigantic size and live many hundreds of years, is born from a chicken's egg, hatched beneath a toad. Its methods of killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deadly an venomous fangs, the Basilisk has a murderous stare, and all whom are fixed with the beam of its eye shall suffer instant death. Spiders flee before the Basilisk, for it is their mortal enemy, and the Basilisk flees only from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it.'_ This is it," he said, looking at them. "This is the answer. The monster in the Chamber is a basilisk—a giant serpent! _That's _why I've been hearing that voice all over the place and nobody else has heard it. It's because I understand Parseltongue. Gwyn can sense it because she's a seer . . . it makes sense!"

Gwyn took the page from Harry and read it carefully. "Of course," she said triumphantly. "That's why nobody's died! The basilisk kills just by looking at people in the eye, but no one's dead because they haven't looked it in the eye. Not directly, anyway," she added, looking up.

"Exactly," Harry agreed as he looked at the Petrified people around them. "Colin saw it through his camera . . . Justin . . . Justin must've seen the basilisk _through_ Nearly Headless Nick! Nick got the full blast of it, but he's a ghost, he couldn't die again. And Hermione and that Ravenclaw prefect . . . had the mirror. Hermione had just found out what the monster was and I'll bet you anything she warned the first person she met to look around corners with a mirrors first! And that girl pulled out her mirror and—"

"And Mrs. Norris?" Ron asked eagerly.

"She didn't have a camera or a mirror," Gwyn murmured, picturing the scene from the first attack on Halloween. "But there was . . ."

"The water," Harry finished up for her. "The flood from Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. I bet you Mrs. Norris only saw the reflection. . . ." Gwyn nodded as she handed him back the page and he scanned it again. "_'The crow of the rooster is fatal to it!'_ Hagrid's roosters were killed! The Heir of Slytherin didn't want one anywhere near the castle once the Chamber was opened! _'Spiders fell before it!' _It all fits!"

"But how's the basilisk been getting around? A dirty great snake . . . someone would have seen it."

"Hermione's answered that too," Harry replied, showing Ron the page, where a single word was written. "It's been using the plumbing. I've been hearing that voice inside the walls. . . ."

"And the entrance . . ." Gwyn whispered. "If Myrtle was the victim last time, then wouldn't it make sense if the entrance was—?"

"In her bathroom," Harry and Ron completed.

"But I can't be the only Parselmouth in the school," Harry said. "The Heir of Slytherin's one too. That's how he's been controlling the basilisk."

"Come on!" Gwyn jumped up, nearly knocking her chair over in her excitement. "Let's go to the staffroom. McGonagall will be there in about ten minutes, it's nearly break." The boys followed her as they hurried out of the hospital wing, heading towards the empty staffroom. When they arrived, Gwyn paced back and forth across the floor, as restless as Harry and Ron were, waiting for McGonagall to arrive.

But instead of the dismissal bell for break, McGonagall's voice broke out over the corridors, magically enhanced. _"All students are to return to their House dormitories at once. All teachers return to the staffroom. Immediately, please." _

"Not another attack?" Harry breathed. "Not now?" Was it possible that the monster already knew what they had discovered and had attacked someone in an effort to keep them quiet? But she hadn't sense anything . . .

"Should we go back to the dormitory?"

Harry shook his head. "No. In here," he ordered, opening the wardrobe door and ushering them inside. "Let's hear what it's all about. Then we can tell them what we've found."

Gwyn climbed inside with the boys and closed the door behind them, encasing them in darkness. It was a few moments before all the teachers arrived and were sitting down, looking anxious as McGonagall arrived, her expression grim.

"It has happened. A student has been taken by the monster, right into the Chamber itself." She took a deep breath. "The Heir of Slytherin has left another message, right underneath the first one. _'Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever.'_"

"Who is it?" Madam Hooch asked. "Which student?"

McGonagall took a deep breath. "Ginny Weasley," she answered. Gwyn covered her mouth to stiffen her gasp as Ron slid silently down onto the floor beside her and Harry. "We shall have to sent all the students home tomorrow. This is the end of Hogwarts. Dumbledore always said—"

The door to the staffroom opened and the one person that nobody wanted there entered. "So sorry—dozed off—what have I missed?" Lockhart asked. For a moment, no one spoke, but then the scrape of a chair being pushed back emerged and Snape answered.

"Just the man. The very man. A girl has been snatched by the monster, Lockhart. Taken into the Chamber of Secrets itself. Your moment has come at last."

"That's right, Gilderoy," Professor Sprout agreed. "Weren't you saying just last night that you've known all along where the entrance to the Chamber is?"

"Yes, didn't you tell me you were sure you knew what was inside it?" Flitwick added.

"I certainly remember you saying you were sorry you hadn't had a crack at the monster before Hagrid was arrested," Snape said smoothly. "Didn't you say that the whole affair had been bungled, and that you should have been given free rein from the start?"

"We'll leave it to you, then, Gilderoy," McGonagall assured him. "Tonight will be an excellent time to do it. We'll make sure everyone's out of your way. You'll be able to tackle the monster all by yourself. A free rein at last."

Lockhart was silent for a long moment before he answered. "V-very well," he stammered. "I'll—I'll be in my office, getting—getting ready."

His footsteps vanished into the hall and the door close once again. "Right," McGonagall said, "that's got _him_ out from under our feet. The Heads of Houses should go and inform their students what has happened. Tell them that the Hogwarts Express will take them home first thing tomorrow. Will the rest of you make sure no students have been left outside their dormitories?"

--

Gwyn was sitting next to the window with Harry and the Weasleys as she stared out into the sky. It seemed to be contrary to everyone's mood: bright and cheery, not at all like the sombre moods of the Gryffindor Tower. No one was speaking much, not even the three friends. The only logical explanation, she thought, was that Ginny knew something about the Chamber, something that Ron pointed out. She was pureblood, why else would she have been taken? It didn't make sense for her to be taken into the Chamber . . . unless there was more to the story than any of them knew.

"Do you know what?" Ron said suddenly. "I think we should go and see Lockhart, tell him what we know. He's going to try and get into the Chamber. We can tell him where we think it is and tell him it's a basilisk in there."

Looking up at the redhead, Gwyn nodded in agreement as Harry stood up. "Okay," he said without argument. All three of them had the undying thirst to do something to help and sitting around the common room wasn't helping. No one stopped them as they left the common room, heading through the castle and towards Lockhart's office.

There was a lot of noise in the office when they arrived and knocked on the door. Lockhart opened it cautiously and looked at them, a bit warily. "Oh—Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Miss Swann—I'm rather busy at the moment—if you would be quick—"

"Professor, we've got some information for you," Harry told him. "We think it'll help you." Lockhart was very reluctant to let them in and it was only after they'd managed to get inside that Gwyn understood why: he was running away, packing to leave.

Ron was practically yelling at Lockhart for abandoning his sister when Gwyn finally interrupted in a tired voice. "You don't get it, do you, Ron?" she asked before looking at Lockhart coldly. "He's running away because he can't do all of the things that he says he can." She took a step forward and Lockhart backed away, actually looked scared at the blonde witch as she raised her wand. "Am I right?"

"You don't know what you're talking about—"

"Don't I?" Gwyn asked fiercely. "Then why don't I cut to the chase? You're just a random wizard who wanted fame the quickest way that he could find it. So you go searching the world and find some witches or wizard who actually did some heroic stuff, get the details on exactly how they did it, and then sold millions by telling the world you were responsible for those things." She stared Lockhart down. "How close am I?"

"Well—I, uh . . . you—"

"And then you did something to make sure that they wouldn't come out and tell the world that you hadn't done them," Gwyn added, interrupting him, her blue eyes flashing like daggers. "A Memory Charm, maybe? So that they never even remembered doing those things? You're disgusting, taking credit for the work that other people have done and messing with their memories. You sick, evil, foul—"

"Perhaps," Lockhart said flatly. He seemed to have regained his composure. "But if there's one thing that I've prided myself on, it's my Memory Charms. Awfully sorry, children, but I'm going to have to put a Memory Charm on you now. Can't have you blabbing all of my secrets all over the place. I'd never sell another book—"

Fortunately, while Gwyn had been telling him off, Harry had grabbed his own wand and when Lockhart pointed the wand at Gwyn, he roared, "_Expelliarmus!_"

Lockhart was knocked off of his feet, tumbling into his trunk and his wand flew out of the window. "You've really got the hang of that one," Gwyn commented as she pointed her wand at Lockhart.

Harry grinned. "Yeah," he agreed before looking at Lockhart. "Shouldn't have let Professor Snape teach us that one."

"What do you want me to do?" Lockhart whined. "I don't know where the Chamber of Secrets is. There's nothing I can do."

"Well, I guess you're in luck, then," Gwyn said cheerfully.

"We think _we_ know where it is," Harry said, forcing Lockhart onto his feet. "And what's inside it. Let's go."

--

Myrtle was sitting on the end stall toilet, looking as sombre as she usually did, when they arrived. She looked up as they arrived, not looking particularly happy to see them. "Oh, it's you," she said darkly. "What you want this time?"

"To ask you how you died," Harry answered. Myrtle brightened almost instantly; the change in her was alarming. Gwyn had never seen her looking so . . . well, in high spirits, so to speak.

"Ooooh, it was dreadful," she said dramatically. "It happened right in here. I died in this very stall. I remember it so well. I'd hidden because Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses. The door was locked, and I was crying, and then I heard somebody come in. They said something funny. A different language, I think it must have been. Anyway, what really got to me was that it was a _boy_ speaking. So I unlocked the door, to tell him to go and use his own toilet, and then—" Myrtle's face was shining with importance as she finished her story. "I _died_."

"Just like that?" Gwyn echoed, glancing at the boys. It seemed that Hermione, as usual, was right; it was the basilisk. After all, one only needed to look at it in the eyes in order to fall victim to it . . .

"How?" Harry asked.

"No idea," Myrtle said, still with an air of dramatics. "I just remember seeing a pair of great, big, yellow eyes. My whole body sort of seized up, and then I was floating away. . . ." She cocked her head. "And then I came back again. I was determined to haunt Olive Hornby, you see. Oh, she was sorry she'd ever laughed at my glasses."

"Where exactly did you see the eyes?" Harry inquired, looking at her excitedly.

Myrtle frowned before pointing towards the sink in front of the toilet. "Somewhere there," she told him. They hurried over to it, examining the sink for anything strange about it. When Harry tried turning one of the taps, Myrtle said brightly, "That taps never worked."

That's when Gwyn saw the tiny, perfect carving into the tap of a snake. This was it, she realised, the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets.

"Harry," Ron said quickly, looking at the dark haired wizard. "Say something! Say something in Parseltongue!"

Harry looked worried and nervous at the suggestion. "But—" he began and Gwyn squeezed his arm reassuringly.

"Just pretend it's a live snake," she suggested, guessing that he'd never done it apart from when he was faced with a real serpent. Harry nodded at her suggestion and took a deep breath, staring down at the carving.

"Open up," he said. In English. He stared down at the engraving, his eyes narrowed as he tried again. Only this time, the same strange hissing sound came from him as had happened at the Duelling Club.

That was all it took. The sink lowered itself into the ground, revealing a large pipe behind it, large enough for all of them, Lockhart included, to get through without much difficulty. Gwyn peered into the opening, trying to see where it led, but there was no indication.

"I'm going down there," Harry said when she stood up.

"Me, too," Ron agreed, his face determined. Of course, with his sister down there, there wasn't the slightest chance that he'd stay behind.

And she wasn't about to leave her friends—her _family­_—in danger. "You're not leaving me out of this one," she said, folding her arms across her chest and noted Lockhart trying to escape. "Oh, no you don't," she said, blocking his path and directing her wand at him. "I believe that you have earned the right to go first, don't you guys agree?" she asked pleasantly.

"Girl makes sense," Ron agreed. "After you, Professor."

"What good is it going to do?" Lockhart whined as he was forced towards the entrance to the pipe. "I really don't think—"

Ron pushed him down and he slid out of sight. Harry moved behind him, vanishing from view. Gwyn and Ron looked at each other before Ron smiled, gesturing for her to go ahead. "Ladies first," he said pleasantly. She rolled her eyes as she dropped into the pipe, keeping her eyes shut as they slid every which way, falling deeper than the dungeons, maybe even underneath the lake.

Just when Gwyn was sure that she was going to lose what little was in her stomach, the pipe levelled and she shot out of it, landing on the damp floor, a large stone tunnel leading off someplace. Scrambling out of the way as Ron flew out, landing in a heap, Gwyn pulled out her wand. "_Lumos!_" she whispered, lighting her wand and peering around her.

"Remember," Harry said quietly as they walked through the tunnel, "any sign of movement, close your eyes right away."

They walked through the tunnel, finding several bones of animals that the basilisk must've been feeding off of, Gwyn gasped when she saw the snakeskin that had been shredded in the tunnel. It had to be over twenty feet long, at the very least. Maybe more.

That was when everything changed. Lockhart, pretending to faint, grabbed Ron's broken wand, pointing at them. "The adventure ends here, children! I shall take a bit of this skin back up to the school, tell them I was too late to save the girl, and that you two _tragically_ lost your minds at the sight of her mangled body—say goodbye to your memories!" He raised the wand. "_Obliviate!_"

"No, don't!" Gwyn yelled as the spell was completed. The wand exploded and Gwyn flung herself sideways to shield herself from the rock slide, covering the back of her neck as rocks continued to fall around her. She felt something strike her head and then everything went black.


	17. Stopping the Heir

**Gwyn Swann and the Chamber of Secrets**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Seventeen: Stopping the Heir

Gwyn frowned as she stood in the middle of an elaborately decorated room, the balcony opening up onto a grand field, complete with a beautiful lake and Quidditch field. For some reason, she felt oddly at peace, as though she belonged here. And some part of her understood that half of her did belong here, because this was the place that was her mother's heritage.

"Who's gonna take care of the place?" she asked suddenly, sensing someone behind her.

"Looks like you're going to take over when it's time," her cousin Morgause said as she fell into place next to her. For once, her cousin didn't look remotely intimidating or even threatening. She was calm and collective as she walked away from her. "The Toren line changed with Aunt Aurora. She changes our destinies without realising it. Now you get to finish it."

Gwyn shook her head. "What are you talking about?"

"You'll find out when you're ready for it, when it's time to claim it," Morgause said with a laugh.

With a small smile, Gwyn shook her head. "There's something that I'm supposed to be doing right now," she said slowly. Morgause nodded without speaking. "I think I'm supposed to be saving the world, stopping Voldemort."

"This time, yeah," Morgause agreed, turning to face her again. "But you can't elude him forever, you know. Eventually, you're going to have to face the thing that killed your mother, his followers that ravaged the wizarding world and caused terror for near a decade. The days are numbered, cousin. They're counting down to when he rises again. Think you've got what it takes to stop him? You think Potter can?"

"I know he can." Gwyn had complete faith in her best friend. "He's stopped Voldemort twice and . . ." She trailed off as the image of the Chamber of Secrets appeared in her mind. "They need my help," she whispered. "He's facing him right now."

Morgause nodded. "The Heir of Slytherin is very powerful and very dangerous," she agreed. "Take what you need, Guinevere. Become who you were born to be. You're a Toren, like it or not. Can't escape it forever."

"I have to go," Gwyn said softly, backing towards the door. "My friends need me."

"They always do." Morgause walked over to her. "When this is all over, you're gonna have to accept both sides of who you are and change the face of the Toren legacy for all time. Think you can do that?"

"I don't want it." Gwyn didn't want anything to do with the Torens. They had abandoned her mother and stripped her from their family. They had never even claimed Gwyn as a member of their family.

"Doesn't matter, it's yours."

"I've got no need for it," Gwyn protested.

"Then just take what you need to survive," Morgause explained. She grinned as she raised her hand. "You ready?"

There was a blinding light and then Gwyn woke, blinking in the sudden darkness, looking all around her, frowning at the sight of the Chamber when everything came back to her. Ginny . . . the Chamber of Secrets . . . the basilisk . . . Lockhart grabbing Ron's wand . . . the Memory Charm backfiring . . . the rock slide. . . . She must've hit her head on one of the rocks, she realised as she scrambled to her feet, looking all around her for any sign of her best friends.

"Harry!" she yelled, her voice echoing hauntingly throughout the Chamber. "Ron!"

"Gwyn?" Ron's voice sounded relieved as she turned towards the wall and she raced towards the redhead as his face appeared through a hole. "Thank goodness! Harry said you were unconscious when he found you. He didn't want to leave you, but Ginny . . ."

"He went on alone?" Gwyn asked, her heart beating frantically. Ron nodded, his face pale.

"I was shifting some of the rock so you guys could get back through," he explained. "Lockhart got hit by the Memory Charm, though. You should see him," he added with a grin. "He hasn't got a clue who he is." He looked happily behind him before looking at Gwyn, who couldn't even force a smile. "He's gonna be okay."

"I'm still going."

"You can't get into the Chamber itself, though," Ron pointed out. "You're not a Parselmouth."

"Maybe not. But one of my best friends is in that Chamber, Ron. I'm not gonna leave him to die." She stared Ron down. "It's _Harry_, Ron."

Ron looked at her, opened his mouth to protest, then stopped. "Good luck," was all he said.

"Thanks," Gwyn said as she jumped down onto the ground. "I think I'm gonna need it." She walked hesitantly towards the tunnel ahead, which led to a solid wall where two serpents were carved, their eyes made of emeralds, making them seem almost alive.

"Open up," she pleaded in plain English. The door refused to budge and she glared at it, her heart pounding in her chest. She could've sworn she heard the sound of music up ahead, in the Chamber, but that was ridiculous. "I command you!"

But the door remained closed and she took a deep breath, closing her eyes, pushing her mind back to the bathroom, when Harry had spoken Parseltongue. She tried to imitate the sounds that he had made, so the door would open. If it opened to Parseltongue, that might be all that she needed . . .

It took her half a dozen tries, but on her last attempt, she succeeded and the door squeaked open, admitting the blonde witch. Keeping her wand in front of her, Gwyn walked boldly into the Chamber, releasing a soft gasp as she saw the scene in front of her.

"Harry!" she screamed in terror. Her best friend was lying against the wall, blood streaming out of his arm from a wound while the giant basilisk lay dead nearby. Ginny was lying, pale and motionless, on the floor with a tall, dark haired boy was standing nearby, a small smirk on his face.

Caring not who he was at the moment, Gwyn practically flew to Harry side, falling to her knees beside him. "Harry," she whispered, her breath coming out in soft gasps as he blinked up at her, struggling to pull her into view. "Harry, it's Gwyn. Come on, give me a sign here . . ."

"Gwyn?" Harry's voice was thick and slurred.

"Yeah," she agreed, brushing her hand through his unruly dark hair, tears streaming down her face. She couldn't lose him, not here, not now . . . "Yeah, Harry, it's me. Hang on, please . . . don't die on me, not yet. Please, I need you . . ." She barely noticed the phoenix that flew to rest beside the two as she buried her face into Harry's chest, sobbing and praying to whatever higher powers were listening to save her best friend.

"Get away, bird!" Gwyn raised her head to see the boy pointing Harry's wand at the phoenix, who was dropping tears onto the wound, closing it. "Get away from him—I said, _get away!_" The phoenix took off, but now the damage had been healed.

"Healing powers," Gwyn whispered as Harry blinked, his eyes clearing as she straightened. "Phoenixes have healing powers. How'd a phoenix get here?"

"He's Dumbledore's."

"Dumbledore's—" Gwyn began, but she didn't finish her thought when the boy—whom she now realised had to be the teenage Voldemort—raised Harry's wand, looking at the two.

Harry pushed Gwyn behind him as Voldemort looked at Harry. "I forgot about phoenix tears having healing powers. But it makes no difference. In fact, I prefer it this way. Just you and me, Harry Potter . . . you and me. . . ."

Just as he raised the wand, the phoenix flew towards them again, dumping something into Harry's lap. The diary that had been stolen from him. How had that gotten here? Gwyn thought as Voldemort, his eyes narrowed, raised the wand.

"_Incendio!_" Gwyn shouted, shooting fire out of her wand towards him. He doused it with water, but that was the distraction Harry needed to plunge the basilisk fang into the diary. Even if she lived to be a thousand, Gwyn would never forget that scream that pierced her ears, nor would she forget the ink that flooded over the floor as Voldemort howled in torment, screaming and writhing as he shouted curses and swears at them.

And then he was gone. Harry's wand clattered to the ground in the silent chamber. Gwyn stared at where he had been before looking at Harry in bewilderment. "Just what exactly happened down here?" she demanded incredulously.

Harry sighed as Ginny began to stir. "I'll explain later," he said as they both hurried over to her, Harry picking up his wand as they ran. Ginny's eyes travelled around them, finally finding the diary that was still in Harry's hand.

"I'm sorry!" she cried, flinging herself into Gwyn's arms, who hugged the younger girl comfortingly. "I'm so sorry! I—I tried to tell you at b-breakfast, but I c-_couldn't_ say it in front of Percy—it was _me_—but I—I s-swear I d-didn't mean to—R-Riddle made me, he t-took me over—and—_how_ did you kill that—that thing? W-where's Riddle? The last thing I r-remember is him coming out of the diary—"

"Shh," Gwyn whispered, rubbing circles around Ginny's back comfortingly. "Shh, it's okay, Ginny."

"It's over," Harry assured her as he showed the sobbing girl the diary with the fang hole. "Riddle's finished. Look! Him _and_ the basilisk. Come on, let's get out here."

"Yeah, Ron's gonna be worried sick," Gwyn agreed as she helped Ginny stand and all three of them headed out of the Chamber, all the while Ginny was continuing to cry.

"I'm going to be expelled!" Ginny wailed as they hurried up the tunnel that would lead them back to Ron and the entrance. "I've looked forward to coming to Hogwarts ever since B-Bill came and n-now I'll have to leave and—_w-what'll Mum and Dad say?_"

Gwyn caught Harry's eye and raised a questioning eyebrow._ "Later,"_ he mouthed at her. It was clear that Ginny had been the one who had opened the Chamber of Secrets and that Voldemort had possessed her, causing her to do it, and she was only guessing that Tom Riddle had once been Voldemort, but there were a bunch of spaces in between that would have to wait until after they got back to the castle.

After a few minutes, a welcoming sound caught Gwyn's ears: the sound of shifting rock.

"Ron!" Harry yelled as he heard it as well, speeding up and causing the girls to run to catch up with him. "Ginny's okay! We've got her!" Gwyn grinned as she heard Ron's yell of relief and delight and as they turned the corner, they found him with a good sized gap that he'd managed to get create.

Pulling his sister through, Ron hugged her tightly. "You've alive! I don't believe it! What happened? How—what—where did that bird come from?" he asked as the phoenix swept in after Ginny. Harry climbed through the hole, helping Gwyn through after him.

"He's Dumbledore's," Harry explained.

"How come you've got a sword?" Ron demanded, gawking at the weapon that was in Harry's hand, which carried the blood from the basilisk on it.

"I'll explain when we get out of here," Harry said, giving Ron a silencing look. "Where's Lockhart?"

"Back there," Ron answered, though he looked puzzled. "He's in a bad way. Come and see." They followed the phoenix to where Lockhart lay at the front of the pipe, humming happily to himself. "Memory's gone. The Memory Charm backfired, hit him instead of us. He hasn't got a clue who he is or where he is or who we are. I told him to come and wait here. He's a danger to himself."

"Hello," Lockhart said, beaming up at them. "This is an odd sort of place, isn't it? Do you live here?"

"No," Ron answered as Harry bent down to look at the pipe. "How are we supposed to get back up this?"

Gwyn was looking at the phoenix, who seemed to be hovering in front of them, offering his tail to them. "I think we're going to fly," she answered with a grin. While trying to figure out what the monster in the Chamber was, she had found an entry on phoenixes. And the book had said that they could carry extremely heavy loads.

"But we're too heavy for a bird to pull up there," Ron protested as Harry grabbed hold of the phoenix's tail.

"That's not just a bird, it's a phoenix," Harry explained. "Trust me, we can make it." Quickly, each one of them grabbed on to each other's hands and Gwyn gripped Harry's robes as they were lifted up into the air and through the pipe, leading back up to the school.

And then, suddenly, they were back in the bathroom that they had started out in, the sink closing up behind them as Lockhart pulled himself up. The Chamber of Secrets was closed once again.

Myrtle looked at them as they had arrived, looking frankly disappointed. "You're alive."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Gwyn said dryly. Myrtle ignored her as she swept through the stalls and vanished into one of them again, though all of them saw that she was blushing silver as she cast a small glance towards Harry.

"If you'd died," Myrtle said suddenly, still blushing as she looked at Harry, "you'd been welcome to share my toilet."

Gwyn resisted the urge to cringe as Harry winced slightly. "Uh . . . thanks, Myrtle," he said weakly as they headed out of the bathroom, Ginny still crying freely.

"Come on," Gwyn said as the phoenix led them through the halls. "I think we have some people waiting for us."

The group walked through the corridors and headed towards McGonagall's office, waiting a few minutes before Harry knocked on the door and pushed the door open, revealing all five of them covered in much, slime, and blood in Harry and Gwyn's cases. She had gotten some of Harry's blood on her while she'd been clinging to him in the Chamber.

For a moment, no one spoke. And then Mrs. Weasley, who with her husband was standing with Dumbledore and McGonagall, released a scream before flinging herself onto her daughter, followed by Mr. Weasley.


	18. Her Mother's Legacy

**Gwyn Swann and the Chamber of Secrets**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Eighteen: Her Mother's Legacy

Gwyn looked at Dumbledore, who was looking at them proudly as McGonagall sank down into a chair, astonished at the turn of events. The phoenix flew past them and settled onto Dumbledore's shoulder while Mr. and Mrs. Weasley clung to their daughter before Mrs. Weasley swept her, Harry, and Ron in an embrace that nearly knocked the air out of her lungs.

"You saved her! You saved her? How did you do it?" she sobbed, refusing to let any of them go.

"I think we'd all like to know that," McGonagall said, her breathing slightly uneven as Mrs. Weasley reluctantly let them go and Harry hesitated before Gwyn gave him a slight push and he walked over to the desk, laying the Sorting Hat, the sword, and Riddle's diary—or what remained of it—before he proceeded to tell them the story of what had been happening throughout the year, with occasional comments from Ron and Gwyn.

Gwyn, who was still weary from being knocked unconscious, sat down in the chairs Dumbledore conjured for them as Harry related the tale of the voice he'd been hearing, the presence Gwyn had felt, and how Hermione found out that it was a basilisk in the pipes; how they had followed the spiders into the forest and they'd learned from Aragog about the previous victim and had guessed that Moaning myrtle had been the girl last time and figured out that the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets was in her bathroom.

When he paused in the tale, McGonagall interrupted the tale, her usual stern voice in place. "Very well, so you found out where the entrance was—breaking a hundred school rules into pieces along the way, I might add—but how on _earth_ did you get all get out of there alive, Potter?"

That was when Harry began to tell them the story of what had happened before Gwyn had arrived in the Chamber. He told them that the phoenix—who was called Fawkes, they found out—had arrived with the Sorting Hat and the sword had appeared in it.

It was when he paused that Gwyn realised that they had no real proof that Riddle—or Voldemort—was the one who forced Ginny to do those things. Riddle's diary was destroyed, how could they prove it?

Miraculously, Dumbledore seemed to understand their thoughts. "What interests me most," he commented, "is how Lord Voldemort managed to enchant Ginny, when my sources tell me he is currently in hiding in the forests of Albania."

"What's that?" Mr. Weasley asked, startled. "_You-Know-Who?_ En-enchant Ginny? But Ginny's not . . . Ginny hasn't been . . . has she?" He looked towards his daughter in panic as Harry picked up the diary off of the desk and handed it to Dumbledore.

"It was this diary," he explained. "Riddle wrote in it when he was sixteen . . ." Gwyn could see the inky and burnt pages from where she sat.

"Brilliant," Dumbledore murmured as he turned the pages. "Of course he was probably the most brilliant student Hogwarts has ever seen." He looked around at the group, half of them who were confused. "Very few people know that Lord Voldemort was once called Tom Riddle. I taught him myself, fifty years ago, at Hogwarts. He disappeared after leaving school . . . travelled far and wide . . . sank so deeply into the Dark Arts, consorted with the very worst of our kind, underwent so many dangerous, magical transformations, that when he resurfaced as Lord Voldemort, he was barely recognisable. Hardly anyone connected Lord Voldemort with the clever, handsome boy who was once Head Boy here."

"But, Ginny . . ." Mrs. Weasley whispered, clutching her daughter tightly. "What's our Ginny got to do with—with—_him?_"

"His d-diary!" Ginny spoke for the first time since leaving the Chamber of Secrets, having been sobbing into her mother's chest. "I've b-been writing in it, and he's been w-writing back all year—"

"_Ginny!_" Mr. Weasley sounded shocked and a hint of outrage was evident in his voice. "Haven't I taught you _anything_? What have I always told you? Never trust anything that can think for itself _if you can't see where it keeps its brain_. Why didn't you show the diary to me, or your mother? A suspicious object like that, it was _clearly_ full of Dark Magic—"

"I d-didn't know," Ginny whimpered, still crying. "I found it inside one of the books Mum got me. I th-thought some had just left it in there and forgotten about it—"

"Miss Weasley should go up to the hospital wing right away," Dumbledore said kindly. "This has been a terrible ordeal for her. There will be no punishment. Older and wiser wizards than she have been hoodwinked by Lord Voldemort." He led them out of the office. "Bed rest and perhaps a large, steaming mug of hot chocolate. I always find that cheers me up. You will find that Madam Pomfrey is still awake. She's just giving out the Mandrake juice. I daresay that the basilisk's victims will be waking up any moment. There has been no lasting harm, Ginny." The Weasleys led their daughter out of the office and Dumbledore turned to McGonagall. "You know, Minerva, I think all this merits a good _feast_. Might I ask you to go alert the kitchens?"

"Of course," McGonagall said as she, too left. "I'll leave you to deal with these three, shall I?"

"Certainly," Dumbledore said as Gwyn, Harry, and Ron looked at each other in horror. Surely they weren't going to be punished or worse, _expelled_? "I seem to remember telling the two of you that I would have to expel you if you broke any more school rules," he told Harry and Ron, who went pale. "Which only goes to show that even the best of us must sometimes eat our own words. All three of you will receive Special Awards for Services to the School and—oh, let me see—yes, I think two hundred points apiece for Gryffindor."

Gwyn could stop the relieved and embarrassed smile that spread across her face as she relaxed.

"But one of us seems to be keeping mightily quiet about his part in this dangerous adventure," Dumbledore added, turning to the forgotten Lockhart standing in the back of the room. "Why so modest, Gilderoy?"

Lockhart looked around to see who he was talking to and Ron said quickly, "Professor Dumbledore, there was an accident down in the Chamber of Secrets. Professor Lockhart—"

"Am I a professor? Goodness, I expect I was hopeless, was I?"

"I like him a lot better this way," Gwyn whispered to Harry, who covered his smile with his hand as Ron explained to Dumbledore what had happened with Lockhart.

Dumbledore looked amused by the events, however, as he shook his head. "Dear me. Impaled upon your own sword, Gilderoy!"

"Sword?" Lockhart inquired. "Haven't got a sword. That boy has, though," he added, nodding to Harry. "He'll lend you one."

"Would you mind taking Professor Lockhart up to the infirmary?" Dumbledore inquired, looking at Ron. "And Miss Swann, would you kindly wait outside for a few moments? I'd like a few words with you after I've spoken to Harry. . . ."

"Sure," Gwyn said, wondering what he possibly would want to talk to her about as she left with Ron and Lockhart, remaining outside of the office while Harry and Dumbledore were talking. There were in there for a long time before someone that Gwyn had been suspecting would turn up appeared at the office door.

Lucius Malfoy scowled at her the moment that he saw her. "Where's Dumbledore?" he demanded.

"Right in there," Gwyn said cheerfully. "What's the matter? Did a certain diary not work out the way that you planned?" She had a feeling that Mr. Malfoy was the one to have planted the diary with Ginny. After all, he'd had one of her books in the bookstore; how else could it have gotten there, coincidentally?

Mr. Malfoy's eyes narrowed at her. "You should mind your own business, Miss Swann," he said coldly. "Otherwise you're going to meet the same messy end that your mother did."

Gwyn only met his eyes calmly. "We'll see," she said flatly as he strode past her into the office, a house elf trailing him. The house elf looked up at Gwyn with bulging green eyes and gave her a small smile before he followed Mr. Malfoy into the office, trying desperately to clean his shoes. So . . . that was Dobby, she thought as the door closed behind them. Madeline had been right about the Malfoys owning a house elf.

It was only a few moments before Mr. Malfoy came storming out of the office, not even bothering to acknowledge Gwyn as he strode past her. Another minute past and Harry came flying out of the office, Riddle's diary in hand, desperate to catch up with Mr. Malfoy.

"Harry, what—"

"I'll meet you at the feast," he said quickly as he vanished from view. Gwyn shook her head as Dumbledore called her into the office.

Walking back into the office, he gestured for her to sit down and she took the seat in front of the desk, looking nervously up at the headmaster, but he was smiling down at her. "It seems that your Seeing powers have improved this year, Gwyn," he said softly. "It's rare to find so strong a seer in one so young. Sensing a basilisk the way that you have . . . why, not seers three times your age have been able to do that."

"It's hard," Gwyn admitted, looking down. "I wish that I understood how it works or how to control it. It just sneaks up on me without warning and . . . but I guess that's how it supposed to work. I can't see things that I might need or want to."

"Quite the contrary, child," Dumbledore corrected with a smile. "The seers whose Sight works the way that yours does, by visions and empathic ability, they can indeed summon the visions that they want."

Gwyn looked up. "Would it be possible for one to train me to do that?"

Dumbledore looked at her. "Your kind are rare, Gwyn. So rare that there was only one born in the last century . . . and she was killed ten years ago, almost a year after Voldemort's fall, leaving her daughter motherless and her husband lost himself to his grief." He looked at her until it clicked.

"Mum," she guessed and he nodded. Gwyn sighed as she leaned back in her chair, running her hand through her blonde hair. "How did she learn to control it?"

"That I cannot answer," Dumbledore admitted, leaning back in his chair to smile at her. "She was gifted in her powers, but she didn't—and couldn't—show anyone how her powers worked, because there was none born with her ability, not until it came in the form of her daughter."

Gwyn looked down. Her mother had possessed the same gifts that she did . . . and in some small way, that connected her even more to her mother. It made her feel closer to her, in a way that she never had. But how could she control what she didn't understand?

"Fortunately," Dumbledore commented as he stood up, "Aurora was a very wise woman. Whether she foresaw what would happen or simply took into account that things don't always work the way we want them to, she took it upon herself to be prepared for the day when she wouldn't be here and you would come into your seer powers."

He handed her a thick, leather book that had a lock on it made of two ovals. In curling initials, there were the letters _A.M.T._

"Mum's diary," Gwyn whispered in shock as he handed it to her. She frowned as she tried to open it. "It's locked."

"If you open the locket that Madeline gave to you last Christmas," Dumbledore explained, nodding to the locket that hung around her neck. It had once that had belonged to her mother and since Madeline had given it to her, she had never been without it. "It becomes the key. I'm sure that your mother will give you the answers you need."

Gwyn looked up at the headmaster. "Thank you, Professor," she said honestly. She paused. "It's not going to end tonight, though, is it? Maybe not next year or the year after . . . but one day . . . Voldemort is going to return to full power, isn't he?"

Dumbledore paused and nodded slowly. "Yes," he answered quietly. "One day, he will."

"And when that day comes," Gwyn said, looking down at her mother's diary. "I'm going to take up my mother's legacy and fight."

A small, sad smile appeared. "Aurora would be proud of the girl that you've become, Guinevere Swann," he said quietly, "as well as the young woman that you're turning into. Now," he said pleasantly, "I think that there's a feast that we should attend. And I daresay your friend Hermione will be awake by now."

Gwyn needed no more encouragement to hurry out of the office and join Ron and Harry at the feast. The reason why he'd been so desperate to catch up with Mr. Malfoy, she learned, was to free Dobby by tricking Mr. Malfoy into giving him his sock, which he'd hidden in the diary. Dobby was free of the Malfoys and free to live his own life . . . to which he was eternally grateful.

The feast lasted all night and most of the students were in their pyjamas, the only exceptions being her, Ron, Harry, Ginny, and the Petrified students, which had been restored to health.

Hermione showed up with the rest of the Petrified students, joyful that they'd solved the mystery, which they assured her they couldn't have done without her help. Hagrid had been released from Azkaban Prison and turned up in the middle of the night, happily thanking them for solving the puzzle and clearing his name. Their six hundred points secured Gryffindor the House Cup for the second year in a row. As a treat for the threat being over, the exams were now cancelled, disappointing Hermione until Ron reminded her that she only had three days to study anyway.

--

The skies were cheerful as they were packing their bags to leave and boarded the Hogwarts Express, taking them back to their homes—at least for most of them. But not for Gwyn and certainly not Harry. While she loved Madeline and was forever grateful to her for taking her in, Gwyn knew that Hogwarts would be her home, for as long as its stone walls stood, so long as her heart kept beating, that was where she belonged. Because that was where she had found family for the first time in her life.

To make the most of their last few hours of legal magic before they got back to King's Cross and the summer holidays began, they practiced spells and charms and whatever else they could think of, but all too soon, they were pulling into King's Cross and Gwyn was practically pulled off of the train by Madeline, who hugged her tightly.

"You, young lady," she scolded, "are going to be in _so_ much trouble when we get home."

"Aw, come on, Madeline, we saved the school and prevented anybody from getting killed," Gwyn pointed out.

Madeline pressed her lips together and Gwyn could tell that she was fighting a smile. "Well, you're still going to be in trouble," she replied, still trying to look furious and failing miserably. She let go of the furious pretence and her arms dropped to her sides. "But we'll discuss that over some chocolate sundaes, all right?" She tweaked Gwyn's nose affectionately and sighed. "Go say goodbye to your friends."

"Okay," Gwyn said weakly as she hurried back over to her friends, who were grinning wildly. "So I'm guessing that I'm going to be grounded for a little while."

"Hey, we saved the school!" Ron protested.

"I think it's the 'almost getting killed' part that's getting to her." Gwyn smiled as Mrs. Weasley gave them an affectionate goodbye before herding her crowd of children off. She looked at Harry. "Don't be a stranger," she told him. "Write whenever you can." She hugged him tightly, sorry to not see him for three months. "If the Dursleys do anything, just call or write to me, I'll be over as soon as I can."

"I promise," Harry assured her as his enormous uncle appeared with his aunt and cousin. "Bye, Gwyn. See you soon."

"Summer will be over before you know it," Gwyn said with a smile. Harry smiled back as he hugged Hermione goodbye before heading off with his relatives, giving them one last look before he vanished.

Turning to Hermione, Gwyn hugged her. "Don't forget to write," Hermione said as she left with her parents.

When her friends vanished, Gwyn looked up to see Madeline standing next to her, a small smile on her face. Gwyn grinned at her guardian before they headed into the parking lot and back to the remnants of her old life.


End file.
